Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

city of enemies… wet hibiscus glisten in the light

love crimes… the imprint  of a fallen angel in the line of fire

Deep Within The alchemy of inner worlds, Can I possibly explain it? The chemistry of silence Hidden deep within to protect The unborn word from the lions Roaming about the middle earth. The comatose twin that does not have The speech impediment and writes Riddled poems in shorthand. The rapture of inner worlds, Can I possibly clarify it? The strength is there, yet the will Waits peacefully hidden from the mind. A day like today I will find The strength to sharpen the pencils And sit down to write.

summer night…  the heady scent of gardenias  and mown grass

summer night… the heady smell of gardenias and mown grass

Un Solo Dolor El sol se destroza en pequeños arcoíris para cruzar mi piel y hacerme sudar como si estuviese acostado cerca de una tortuga en el piso de un jardín botánico.   No quiero seguir viviendo, solo espero que se apague mi corazón de un solo dolor.   Luego me iré a dormir con alguna serpiente mansa en el casco de la ciudad para no aburrir a los gallos ni provocar tormentas.    

autumn dusk . . . the creak of broken beams in bamboo coves

Curled Soon my heart will stop, and I will balance my affections against a different feather. You won’t anticipate the pain that rocks me, my soles curled like a sleeping infant’s. I will gather the lilies and set them on our bed, but you will be missing, absent, gone; going up, going down, with a stranger brushing your arm in a hotel elevator.  Yes, stuck with another man cruising and brushing his arm against your elbow. And I will not be there to save you from all the gossip.  You will slip away with him into a corridor until you reach a door that he will open.  Then you will enter the room and I will be missing.

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tiene credenciales  callejeras,  gata sin tejado madonna de barrio

butterfly kites flutter against the ocean air El Morro

plowed earth bullet-riddled boys littering the streets

sloping hills now and then a crow caws

the steady thrum of rain on the windows… late autumn