Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

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.

Te escondes del viento enroscándote en mis labios — alárgate en mi sueño y no me dejes solo. Tu deseo se hunde y se estruja en mis caderas como un faisán a la deriva.   Tápame la boca con tus labios criollos para que no se escape la presa de su jaula. 

Regocijo Mi vida está detenida en un infinito n ú mero de arcoíris; los múltiples colores de mi soledad a la espera de nadie.  

Gogyohka vi curl up on my lips hide from the world in the voice of the wind lengthen yourself   in my daydreams

Susurra Nadie, estaba solo, solo pintando el alba y el crepúsculo . Silencio amor, calla. Susurra cuando estés abstraído de la fórmula de tu vanidoso orgullo .

Curiosity I got on my bicycle and rode all the way to the movies alone after lunch that Saturday.  Sat there eating popcorn, watched myself become scenery away from my image. When I left the theater, it had already started to get dark and I couldn’t remember my way back home in that dim autumn light.  I wondered about cowboys, 24-hour movie theaters, and the possibility of getting picked up in a bathroom in NYC.  Was that possible?   Only on Saturdays, I concluded.   Sundays were for Jesus.  I played the organ at church, and hid behind books with letters of the alphabet: D to F and G to H.

Mulato Criollo dedicado a Luis Fortu ñ o No es solo el pequeño oasis de justicia — rendija por donde nadie ha pasado — sino la banda totalitaria de una revolución cultural indigna lo que despierta el rechazo. Rey Midas — mulato criollo decidido a convertir su sue ñ o absolutista en el retroceso del Caribe, izquierda o derecha en todos los frentes.

Blue Delight - Gogyohka poem On this blue November   morn I woke up   with a crown riding a stallion up boulevard St-Germain. My mouth was between your legs and trees grew in the orchard you never tend. The gift of sight was cause enough for delight as I sat watching dawn pour in my bedroom.

Gogyohka poem v Your legs are wide open; a night of unfinished buses crashing on a golf course. I close my eyes frightened of the empty beer cans, packed in that locked closet. Between one chapter   and the next   a summer breeze and a winter storm circle each other.

Gogyohka poem iv Night fog is over. Set aside garlands, rum, and drums. Prepare coconut kisses, tighten the farewell sash.  

Gogyohka poem iii The visions have returned— without threads or needles, only the echo   of poetic voices— my dead are restless.