Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

terminally ill a snowman melts into darkness śmiertelnie chory bałwan wtapia się w mrok Sergio Ortiz San Juan, Stany Zjednoczone Polish International Haiku Competition Commended http://polish.international.competition.haiku.pl/results.php

birthday morning.... I no longer care for this old love of death the cold angel whose ruin I learn to accept

midday nap her eyes are no longer calico where  are the butterflies?  burning summer sun rusted garbage bins recycling plastic   

holding onto a finger— the veteran smiles at his new hand

http://www.theperegrinemuse.com/PoetsInternational/sergio-ortiz/ a few of my tanka have been published at The Peregrine Muse.  I am so happy. Sergio

el Macho Camacho gunned down in his last round of sunshine (for Hector, "El Macho Camacho")

tumbleweed— leaving a trail of blood across the desert fingerprints tracing an affair of the heart Gaza  my sunrise silence  battered by rockets 

tree frogs sing under mountain stars... a dream begins seaweed the strange aroma of sunset chamomile tea I close my eyes to hear  the nightingale Benghazi at dawn... recalling a peaceful dream death poem hummingbirds outside my back porch dawn the chiaroscuro warmth of adobe     wind music a gospel singer reaches for the light moonglow my neighbor’s hand clips the bonsai the voice that was no voice spoke hurricane yellow moon a skylark’s voice over the lake

Three poems up at  Red Poppy Review

Cat’s Cradle   her wrinkled face touched by the sun

Te Deseo fin del verano... tu cuerpo joven transita   sobre mi recuerdo como un huracán en una esquina indiscreta.

XXXIX I swallow the smoke that ascends above our inaugural napkin.  Your discrete stare says, goodbye.

XXXIX I observe you. It is then I know I am alone. My shadow is your shadow and I am resigned.  

XXXVIII I am about to whisper it   when all of a sudden you turn back   and say it...  there is an empty  pillow on the bed.

XXXVI I study him seated by the window where he stands. Light-up the world , I think. You say: the sun is burning and close the pane.

sangra el beso en tus labios de arcilla abrázame fuerte 

I just received notice that I will be honored with a contributor's copy of Clarion at Boston University.  This magazine is very much alive and working. http://www.bu.edu/clarion/14/

  XXXV you stand by a window and sulk             I reassure you there is nothing to worry about your eyes sink to the ground as I walk away

XXXIII crystal clear, your young body in the sunlight still in its dream stage. I stop to pick-up your breath and hear other songs .