Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

Laughter and Clarity He rows with dew oars toward the spot where the wind begins, the remote shore where he grows in undisturbed silence, and stares at the ebbing moon, the color of the world which has not had a cradle of pupils, and cries.

Poem up at THIS - A literary Zine and Guerilla Pamphlets 

You You were the unborn ship of stars a shadow exiting the sound of my death my distant smile my ocean without a currant my thick riverbed my fine sand nobody else but you

T ú Eras navío de estrellas sin nacer sombra salida del sonido de mi muerte mi sonrisa distante mi mar sin lecho mi rio grueso mi arena fina tú y nadie más que t ú

On my first day without you , I’ll wash my face with ice water.  Grab my coloring chalks and paint a woman dressed in red coming out of church.  She’ll be staring into a blue sky with a blank face as the exit walls tremble.   Her womb swollen, and you speechless and unhappy beside her looking for me, eyes begging for absolution. But here I am to remind you, as the earth quakes beneath my feet, absence makes the  mind forget.

On the Death of my Mother I woke up thinking about Sparks and how she still has someone to remember her long calico fur.   How death had poor directions and left that scruffy dog living on the other side of the street sleep until noon while she found a corner of the house on which to lay her cares for good.  I thought about the guilt I felt for not being the perfect son with the large bank account, the mansion, and the sports cars. I shed a few tears when I recalled how you’d caress my face.  It reminded me of Paris and how much I thought about you while shopping for gifts at the wineries.   It was me death should have looked for— childless, flashy, with the sexual appetite, the urban legend,  the one who should be spooking children when they go to sleep for weeks after Halloween.

Este cuarto es un desfiladero de paredes agrietadas y brisas secas que maman los senos de un naranjal . Este cuarto, una pequeña campana, y un bastón sin sangre o sonido  no son nada; Mejor sería ponerlo a dormir .

This room is a mountain pass with ruptured walls and a dry breeze sucking on the breast of an orange grove. This room, a small bell, and a staff without blood, or sound; Better it be put to sleep.

Constant Craving:  Gogyohka sequence 1. No one, I was alone. Alone painting dusk and dawn. Hush lover, hush. Whisper when you’re distant from the formula of your conceited pride. 2. The visions return without threads or needles, only the echo  of poetic voices— my dead are restless 3. tighten the farewell sash.  Night fog is over. Lover, set aside garlands, the rum and drums. 4. Your legs are wide open; a night of unfinished buses crashing on a golf course. 5. I close my eyes frightened of the empty beer cans, packed in that locked closet. 6. Curl on my lips. Hide from the world in the voice of the wind. Lengthen yourself  in my daydreams. 7. We were accidental tourists caught in the conversation of kisses, pure harmony of arms under the effects of a starry night.

Dormir Hoy es difícil decir cómo me siento.   La amargura se pasea como Juana la loca por mis pupilas y ni el medicamento me salva.  Hoy una hormiga recorre las calles de mi corazón muerta del frio, todo es escarcha, todo es escarcha.  Hoy yo mismo me enterraría vivo en el sue ñ o eterno de tu cama.

Absence  A sigh, and nothing els e, would be enough to drop a dish  and start the hammering of the heart. Tonight, however,  the poet tries to say  what all this absence  means.

December There’s a pretty redhead turning tricks out on the street.  Misery and desolation lie with her when she sleeps.  She reaches for her jeans where she hopes to find a dirty old calendar with a circle around December and a bus ticket back to Reims.  When she finds the month is missing she pounces and she screams:  Who pinched the month of December?  Who could have done that shit to me?

Songs for Poems Pretty boy, may God keep you safe from tears in red China Roses, leaf storms in the city of wind, pupils that do not have horizons, or silence set against the sea if they do not ask to exchange music for poems.  Pretty boy, avoid dryness of lips from the traveler that embroiders   temptation with fire on the last train of my calendar.

Canciones por Palabras Muchacho lindo, Dios te libre de lágrimas en amapolas rojas, de la hojarasca en la ciudad del viento, de pupilas que no tienen horizontes, o del silencio frente al mar si no te pide canciones por palabras . Muchacho lindo guárdate de la resequedad de labios del viajero que borda tentaciones con incendios en el último tren del calendario, la última parada de mi llanto.

Never use the word "suddenly" to create tension I placed chains made out of dawns  on our nuptial thalamus.   Why did you abandon me?   I Entangled your steps  with all my furrows.   Why become the decoy of the time?   Suddenly, day and night abandoned me.  What did you leave,  but a tightly suffocated shadow!

Nunca uses la palabra “repentinamente” para crear tensión   Le puse cadena   de auroras   a nuestro tálamo.   ¿Por qué   me abandonas?   Enrede tus pasos con todos mis surcos. ¿Para qué   convertirte en señuelo   del tiempo? Repentinamente Me abandono el día   y la noche. ¡Qué me dejas, sino   una sombra apretada!

The House of Wisdom Lost is the twilight where sadness went to sleep, lost the Gospel according to Eve, and the "Rare Books" section at the House of Wisdom.  Only the dream about our bodies at play remains in the mystical voice of your embrace.

Gale of my desire, perhaps it was the dry leaves trembling among the autumn snow, but I knew you would be mine when I heard the lightest noiselessness of songbirds hidden behind the palisade.  

Vendaval Vendaval de mi deseo, quizás fueron las hojas secas que tiemblan entre la nieve de otoño, pero supe que serias mío cuando escuche el silencio, la afonía más ligera de pájaros cantores escondidos detrás de la empalizada.

Gogyohka vii Fuimos turistas  accidentales  atrapados en conversación de besos, pura armonía de abrazos bajo el efecto de un rapto estrellado.

Gogyohka  vii We were accidental tourists caught in the conversation  of kisses, pure harmony of arms  under the effect of a starry rapture

Five poem accepted at MungBeing  

Daybreak Birds  peck on the solid plinth I once stood upon in silence; Strange to see my white shadow become luminous with song. The earth surrounding me parts as each particle of light recreates a new beginning,  and I am  inebriated daybreak exposed to the open air.  The wind in the trees and magenta clouds  sweep  over me.

Pornografía Me mir é en tus ojos.  No faltaba extremidad alguna.  Afuera en la ciudad llovía.  El pavimento brillaba con el trafico de cuerpos mojados, sobresaltados, risibles.  N ecesitaba un piso plano de mármol fresco.

A New Direction A phased plan began to wind down the old garden path— a pathos born from the sustained imbalance of an unfriendly touch. Yet this is me in my present direction: seedling of every tree, fragrance of earth's warless soil, silence of humankind ushering me into the  awaited applause.