Mixed media from Daniel DeCulla

Metal sculpture in a park that resembles two asteroids - or a bra. On a brick area in front of some trees.

Pic: de Culla


Robin Hood was making a monumental straw

In a clearly favorable sexual posture

In a place in his legendary Sherwood Forest

In Nottinghamshire, England

In which woodcut is made

Trying to get his prick really erect

Or iron rod where the Roman pylon runs

In the open slit that had the trunk, at his height

Of the famous and old Major Oak

Over eight hundred years old

When, suddenly, in his ejaculation, before putting it

Among the constellation of his sperm

That he related with the sternum

As a soldier of the Roman militia

That fought with a pole or spear

And went to the opposite sternum

Two racing cars or tormented asteroids

Fell in the center of the clear forest

Round star or buttock figure

That, for him, they were only two

Of the seven main stars of the Pleiades or Cabrillas

Or the twinned asses of Castor and Pollux

From the vulgar constellation of Gemini

Or two round kettledrums of dirty trick.

From his ejaculating post

Or important masturbating dignity

Prick chippet itself when it broke

Spiting sperms

Forcibly and rude

Near the mouth or astral slit of the Major Oak

Holding, forcing, constraining

His legendary cock

As the primitive Asturians did

Of Tarragona, Spain

Or that king of Persia from Holy Scripture

That  was Daríus

 Hytaspes or Artaxerxes Longamanus ‘son.

For the excellence of his masturbation

Robin Hood rose to the sky

Splitting with his prick

The celestial vault in twelve equal parts

By means of meridians

Knowing in the ecstasy of his self-esteem

The Physical Geography of the Earth:

The Ocean, the Gulf, the Bay

The Inlet, the Anchorage, the Strait

The Creek,  the Roads. Port and Outer Harbour

The Breakwater, Dock, Lighthouse and Watch

Etcetera etcetera; and from Heaven:

The Clouds: Cirrus, Stratum, Nimbus. Cumulus

The Fog, Rain, Snow

The Snowdrift, Aurora Borealis, Rainbow

Lightning, False Suns, Halos

Shooting Stars, Zodiacal Light, Fatty Fires

And, above all, Mirages

What he said shaking his prick

About Sherwood’s oak green:

-I fell from my Donkey.

Everything has been a mirage.

-Daniel de Culla

Mixed media from Daniel DeCulla


Woman’ shoes have a tradition

Of assuming to know

Which side one’s bread

Is buttered.

This is unique

With Feminism, of course.

I suppose that Popes

Makes saints as fritters

Beccause dress

With woman’ shoes.

And also

Women with shoes

Not are second to none.

-Daniel de Culla

Mixed media by Daniel DeCulla

Daniel DeCulla

Pic: Isabel G. de Diego


In Moradillo de Roa lands

On the banks of Burgos

Going down to Uncle Julio’s almond trees

From the Rita winery

Almost dizzy

 I saw a green monkey

On top of a branch.

-How handsome he is! I told myself


-Little monkey,  monkey

Where did you come from?

Look that you have courage.

What are you doing there

Uploaded on that branch?

Don’t you know you can fall

And hurt?

The monkey answered me:

–No, I’m not going to hurt myself

Because I have seven lives like cats.


There is a very pretty girl

That comes to see me

Three times in the week

But as you do not come

To Rita’s cellar

When she comes

Because Moradillo don’t like you

I can’t invite her

And I spend the day

Like an anchoret

Trying to crack

Some almond tree with the tail.

– Oh, idiot, how cute!

As you find favor with me

And now people are at festivity

Well occupied

I will take you with me

To the Rita’s pergola

And for some roasted black puddings

And some salami ​​to the wine

That I’m going to give you

You have to delight us

With some of your funny things.

-That’s done. But wait

My dear Daniel

That over there is coming

That little girl

And I want to see her happy

Making to her lovely things.

-Daniel de Culla

Mixed media from Daniel De Culla

Santilana del Mar, Cantabria. Pic: Isabel G. de Diego


 The General Inquisitor

What a great awakening has!

Throwing an abbess from his bed

That was not born of Mary

And, hugging his stiff prick

Praises the heavenly father and his beloved Son

Thanking the joyful glory of his prick

For raping four Witches

From among the most beautiful

To spread hosts or bread

Because he throws the ugliest

To the minions, canons of the Cathedral

To the pigs and the dogs.

Raping four agnostics and five heretics

Worthy of being whipped and humiliated

Crushing the eggs

Putting them an Easter candle by the Ass

While stealing and expropriating

Their earthly possessions

Under death threats at the stake

Or in the shackles

To give them to the King and the Church.

 This glory day, also

He had fucked seven blasphemous novices

By bringing them to the eternal day of their lives

Among the flames of other fires

And that, for being glorifying her Cunt

That Cunt that gives us Life

It makes us funny

And it is the joy of slime fools.

This General Inquisitor

After well marinate

The naked bodies of the Witches

Beautiful bodies between his hands raped

With his stale and rotten sperms

He brought them to the eternal day of their glory

Burning them at the stake.

When the sun sets

Contemplating, erect and disengaged

Stroking his prick

How the hairs of their cunts burnt

And those of the alveoli of her nipples

Not only.

In this position

Singing to the Father and the Son

And to the Holy Spirit

He wrote a “Treaty on Romanesque Art

And the Gothic Art ”

Affirming that: Romanesque art

Had been created by architects

Inspired by the chesnut sellers

And their pretty chestnuts

Seeing that they were all good

Because they participate in the glory of the Father

And that gothic art had occurred to them

Seeing the flames of the fires

That rose to Heaven

Dragging between threads of fire

The souls of the Witches.

This morning of proceedings was clear

And, before the awful burning was celebrated

With Easter clarity

The General Inquisitor was heading to his Cathedral

And once in the bell tower

He picked up the clapper of the bell

That was ringing

Placing it imposing his prick on her

Making her sounding.

All the believer people that to the false light deliver

Composed of fearful and conspicuous devout women

That come with pleasure as soon as they see him

Or guess, happy

That it is his carnal light that refuses them

And of criminals Font pissers defenders at all costs

Of so macabre burning for God and for the Church

In St Vitus’s dance looking for him

Because his inquisitorial presence is ardent

Without meridian or border.

For all of them

This criminal and murderer General Inquisitor

Was a wicked saint, column of the Aurora

Announcing his greatness at night

By the light of the fires.

From his episcopal balcony

He blinded the sun with his sperms

And to the moon gaves candle

For lighting the desert and its sands.

He closed the night of the fires

With scorched Witches’ bodies

Like sackcloth of darkness

That for his people it was a blessing

See sunrising over the roofs of their houses

So much smog in embers

Smelling of singed horsehairs and pigs.

The General Inquisitor, meanwhile

In his episcopal palace

With snooze

Watches his prick watching

 Tooking fire from the bowels of his eggs

And between the sheets

Aurora flipping over

Loudly praying:

“Husband Jesus come suddenly.

Go out to meet the Witches

That in the forest, naked, are dancing

With green bouquets

Singing to the horned God

And the mother Moon.

Bring to my presence

Agnostics,  heretics

And blasphemous novices

That have a shit at the door of your banquet.

Fires await for them.

How cry their scorched eyes

That won’t be able to see you!

-Daniel de Culla

Mixed Media from Daniel De Culla

Orwell Farm by Daniel De Culla


We are fifteen friends, between women and men

To whom have invited to the Orwell ‘Farm.

It’s time for major elections

And that scream or cry so resonant

From the heads of the list asking for the vote

Rumbles in the streets, stables and pens.

This time, it’s something extraordinary, magnificent!

Because are present:

The Pigs’ Party

The Sucking Pigs‘ Party

The Fucking Pigs’ Party

The Dirty Pigs’ Party

The Hogs’ Party

And the Motherfucker Pigs’ Party.

We have sold the vote to each one

Asking for a good position

For us and our family

In the companies of the Ibex 35.

We are not voting, but yes of wine boot

And gentle aperitif

Waiting to make a hit with them.

In this confidence of reaching a prebend

Or a simple benefit

We play happily

Pulling on a table mat

An erotic die

With the obligation to fulfill each

With the luck that comes out.

The punishment for not fulfilling the fate of the die

It will be to give a blowjob

To a chosen wo/man among us.

So let’s play beautifully!

With this die consisting of six sides:

The 1: “You will do a service to the she Elephant”

The 2: “You will exalt the ass ‘ cock”

The 3: “You will sing a heroic verse to the Giraffe s ass”

On 4: “You will masturbate the Mule’s  member

Until he lifts his neck to Heaven with panache ”

The 5: “You will put the Cunt in the mouth of the Ass

Impelling your arseholo certain wind ”

The 6: “You will manage, for one day

The Sex Workers’ Block:

Mules, Donkeys and Jumentas

To whom men have good appreciation.

Did not give time to play at all

Because a big Hee-Haw made us stop

Forcing us to listen

To a Major pig

Who was the ruler, right now

The Farm Government

Who were they calling “Holy Pope”

Becvause always began his speech or homily

With these heartfelt words:

“A Holy Pope append myself I can”

And, before finishing his rant

That nobody listened or understood

He made a very pleasant observation:

“Here, in this endearing Farm

Give you an idea: our Farm!

There is only one Academy of literary scholars

What is that Donkeys’ Corps

That illustrates the nation

In the language of the Hee-Haw

And its resonant echoes. ”

“Vote, if you want

And if you don’t want, don’t vote

That here you will always be governed

With the Justice of the Ass. “

-Daniel de Culla

Mixed media from Daniel DeCulla



This saying came from my friend Zalito

To fishermen who had cast their reeds

Before us

In the waters of the Arlanzón dam

In Burgos

Thinking that the trouts would sting

In our reeds

Where nobody saw them

After walking half a league

And hurting my head.

-Lead down the voice, friend, he said

That some very large trouts are approaching

And you can scare them away.

Yes, a large trout

It seemed to take the bait

But what it did was take out his beak

Out of the water to breathe

Laughing at us

And at our earthworms.

– It’s impossible! Zalito exclaimed

If worms are the best delicacy

For trouts

As are worms from the children’s ass

To the pedophile priests’ mouth¡

Seeing my friend that trouts not sting

We left the place

Coming back to home

Not without first eating in Pineda de la Sierra

Passed more than five hours.

I came back with a lot of grief

Because I lost in the swamp waters

The hook, the thread and the cane.

Fortunately, Zalito is a good man

And penalized me only

With take him on my shoulders

On the way to Pineda de la Sierra

Leaving the car at the entrance of dam

Right in the same place

Where we had left it before.

Walking, he told me:

-You’re lucky, friend

You are going to be the foal

That neighs in this saw.

-Daniel de Culla