Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

an hour’s length in our noisy city starts with sadness and leaves in its wake this empty page http://thebamboohut.weebly.com/current-issue.html

a heron, bluer than the lips of Lazarus, awakens to the harsh cry of a jealous sea

I dance on my heart when stars are spaced so far apart that doors opened to lovers close around them like a book 

The poem was accepted for a competition and had to be taken down.  Sorry!

Náutico escarcha que no se desprende de mis manos— entre flor y canto, rosa y viento, logramos vivir sonámbulo existiendo en ambos lados de una frontera— las primeras campanadas al alba en una aldea silenciosa siempre me halle en el limbo de las palabras perdidas el murmullo cimbró la tierra insular y fui aires del pasado que descienden a nuestras zonas dolorosas colocando a un lado la miseria, la ternura y la violencia

Asimbonanga (We have not seen him) Asimbonang' uMandela thina (We have not seen Mandela) Laph'ekhona (In the place where he is) Laph'ehleli khona (In the place where he is kept) Oh the sea is cold and the sky is grey Look across the Island into the Bay We are all islands till comes the day We cross the burning water Chorus.... A seagull wings across the sea Broken silence is what I dream Who has the words to close the distance Between you and me Chorus.... Steve Biko, Victoria Mxenge Neil Aggett Asimbonanga Asimbonang 'umfowethu thina (we have not seen our brother) Laph'ekhona (In the place where he is) Laph'wafela khona (In the place where he died) Hey wena (Hey you!) Hey wena nawe (Hey you and you as well) Siyofika nini la' siyakhona (When will we arrive at our destination)

held in ice as dancers in a spell leaves that fell on frozen over lakes— New-year bells bicker with the snow

watching him sleep in long alleys over a wild solitude I assume I’ve discovered the secret of life

he soiled his bushy muse with sequins— he ordered in a trick and called it dial-a-dick

we empty the dark in the dark . . . somehow someone finds by mistake a need fulfilled

he knew how to touch fire and leave unharmed . . . I knew how to open every door

we have rituals of regret, boys sent back home in body bags . . . we lie down in meadows and leave behind their corpses

wordless   as the flight of birds endless streams and mountains— Mandela

a quiet exit free  Nelson Mandela— from a prison rock quarry to the presidential suite 

Sergio Ortiz

Me publicaron unas poesías en una revista literaria Mexicana;  CUADRIVIO http://cuadrivio.net/2013/08/naufrago-de-sombras/ Tu sexo Extraño tu sexo ciñéndose a mi lengua. Amo tu racimo de sudores olvidados, la gota de coñac que resbala por tu muslo con la indiferencia de una nube que se aleja. Amo tus claras humedades: las de tu esperma tramposa las de tus ojos lacrimosos. Mi silencio con sus fauces te rodea.

I trust that horses run through vast canyons though I watch through the window with small flutters of fear