Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

Naw-Ruz in a perfect garden—  songs  so great I cannot weep words so swift I can fly

I want  to be a voyager in your heart put my soul back  in your hands

heavenly rains inundate my tongue recalling my childhood I open my arms to love

a hidden sun rises  like a pillar of fire  inside me ...  on the brink of sleep  the heat of love

Where are you now The last time I saw him was just a few days before he passed away. We hugged each other like we had once before. He had the scent of lilies and white roses . I know what it feels like, swimming through the stars when I see him, and I don’t need the air because I breathe him.* undressing him in the muted evenings of my golden years I can't remember his name... love, gone like that

spring, keep me away from funerals wash Frida Kahlo's hair come out smelling like irises taste the moon in Lorca's eyes

I heard  you fucked it up again-- I am a conqueror i'd rather stand tall  than live on my knees

headlines read: Veterans Volunteer to Fight ISIS* they see enemies lifting black flags above  Syrian cities *New York Times

manic surge-- the many voices  inside  one voice it all could end tomorrow 

born into light-- I am the one that never granted  you forgiveness the one pretending to live  among the dying

undressing him  in the muted evenings  of my golden years  I can't remember his name...  love, gone like that*  

I grant myself  the extravagance of breakfast-- fasting is too hard to spread on my toast

when love is at a close —Rupert Brooke, Jealousy how is living with a rattle snake a funky woman with no clairvoyance are you satisfied day after day I sat with you watching love turn to habit, you're not what I'm missing, indifference is all I can muster

I knew  I couldn't get to her  in time she was standing on a ridge looking out over the river

art is a bridge,  scarcely curved,  connecting the secret  with the first innocence...  I'm on the ridge ready to leap

my body  grows old and tired  on its journey  my soul knows how it feels  to lie in a bed of lilies