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ZP persecution of Catholics. Zapatero

The campaign of harassment and demolition of the new Christianity Diocletian, the illustrious ZP, attached to this individual's unhealthy obsession with the figure of the former head of state, Francisco Franco, have led to something not seen in Europe since the World War II, which is the prohibition of religious worship in a temple.

Vice Rubalcaba has driven the Benedictine monks and parishioners of the church of the Valley of the Fallen. Another step the Government towards the decommissioning of this monumental complex and liturgical heritage of the English and not the socialist government.
Since last November 3, monks and parishioners have to celebrate Mass outdoors, in a pine forest outside the precincts of the Valley of the Fallen, in the cold of the Sierra of Madrid.
no coincidence that Pope Benedict XVI recently warned that certain attitudes in Spain you remember the climate of religious persecution that took place in our country during 30 years of the twentieth century.

I just signed a petition demanding the prime minister to restore the right to attend Mass in the Valley of the Fallen. Can you join me on the link below?

http://listas.hazteoir.org/12all/lt.php?c=829&m=1294&nl=9&s=e7902ea1a3d022aaf1e35a2558a90727&lid=7544&l=-http--www.hazteoir .org/firma/34094-firma-100-000-mensajes-monjes-valle-caidos-y-libertad-religiosa-en-espana
cost you only 1 minute.
Many thanks!
Hugs,

Cytherea With Mandingo

This secret pact between the pen and the sword
commitment to blood or soul. A trickle fire

proclaims the lunge. Faints
word.
The witness has lost the battle.

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pact Wrath of verse


I demand that my pen verses

no roses without thorns or lights


neither sun nor stars

neither love nor sea. I forbid the verse


wipe a tear or bite the floor. I ordered the verse

forget
chest lions and beasts of the language.
The pardon if profane graves
grandstand or drunk.
Le Pen
forgive it becomes a sword. Anger
. Chest

bleeding and his eyes smile
the mud. Revenge

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Hunches



This skin immune to rain
foam
flourished with a single kiss of honey. These circles

sleepless pillow undone before the hangover virgin

inherited the silent night
at the corner of an orgy.
These stones
my hands against the window of farewells

pigeons became the song of my name in the box
your lips.
I do not want to see you go, every thought

moon beam and then know how my pillow orphan
dawn phase.
Flood.
have died of thirst
all hours of kissing.
Bebámonos. Blaine

Antonia Martín Pérez (Cuba)

With this poem participated in the third Poetry Contest of Heptagrama

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Emergency


throng the wind against the face, chest leads
armor.
silence in the soul
windows no longer exist. Blizzard

outraged drank your ghost. Outdoor
called home.

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No windows delayed Seventh Heaven


Urge
grilled without the center of the sun ...
unfinished pen on blank pages
...

blue drunk without a sip from sea to their backs ... sed
live on the slopes
virgin birth of Earth ... to die in the mouth

prohibited and rise from the lips.

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Alexandra, carnation, gives me flowers in their hands
seem kisses. Alexandra
star, gives me kisses on her lips
that look like flowers.
Alexandra, magic elves
gives me a new heart in each node

embrace in its universe of love
say how much I love you.
My fortune is immense:
treasures skies, gardens and kisses.
And my humble orphan
still claims dawn!