Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

Another beach in Puerto Rico Te sigo escribiendo poemas desde el paraíso   Eventualmente encontraras tus mañanas… lo cierto es que yo no las tengo las palpe de vez en cuando antes de que orinaras mi cama cuando fuiste campo de margaritas fue entonces cuando busque tu oscura piel de espanto y reviví mis Andes ya casi amanece mi sonrisa es amplio cuchillo carroñero vendiendo lagrimas en el caribe 

There goes the man that was my lover -  Ini adalah untuk Anda cintaku there goes the man that was my lover… what else can I say if not even my moaning stirs the fella who heaves    his back on rocks with me in arms even the ashes remember when he was nothing I made water from the rocks so we could bath when he comes back                                           regretful my memories will unchain his neck

Puerto Rico,  Bioluminescent   bay in Viequez The Meaning of Light The beast drinks water from the shallows while the blossom sleeps where death awaits on unavoidable nights. It translates voices that it does not understand, and hopes to ask about desire. Its deciphered imprints follow the course of a scented field, it’s going to overwhelm the printed hands that rise above it blindly — created to misguide. Trees will be the waves and boats of fireflies setting sail in view of wind, symphonic seeds navigate to other lands. A storm plants death ruins on the plains. After the time of bones, new grass grows, a cloak of fear and loneliness waits in twilight dimensions. A man blinded by rennet in streaming light bites his rage, chews the curd of false expectations, rates desert paths. He does not stop offering dilapidated visions, the challenge of kissing gannets in an empty sea.

A tiny bit of heartbreak You wanted  to play  so you opened  my mouth inhabiting me  like a sulfur storm. Each kiss  made me different. I couldn't go  to sleep. I stayed in the silence of your perfect lips. Where is your home now that I've said  goodbye?

Un poco de quebrante Quisiste jugar y por eso me abriste la boca habitándome como un tormenta de azufre. Cada beso me hizo distinto. No pude marcharme a dormir, me quede en el silencio arruinado por labios perfectos. ¿Dónde está tu casa ahora que te he dicho adiós?

It doesn’t matter anymore You were a little of what is forbidden in fairytale stories, extravagant hobby seducing uncertainties, little of what you said you were. I used to dream of walking you between the lines of your previous lovers without worrying how full of footsteps your body was, I had your skin, drank slowly from your scares, imagined you walking through the neighborhood in the dark, the moon dwelling on crystal glasses, refurbishing the mind with memories that everyone already used up

Surf I loved, was rejected, and slowly vanished, but I loved again and eventually returned to the photographs and the sea. Today I am the surf. 

It’s winter in Paris There’s a man singing to me on the street. He wears an elegant smile and leans against a wall like a question mark, one who lives in a house where no one sweeps away the sadness. It’s as if  Lenard Cohen  were in my room  describing  the weight of melancholy encrypted in the rain.

if it’s not leap a year is made up of three hundred sixty five stumbles… I’m testing the fall

Hombre de los ojos diminutos Si no fuera por la arcilla cocida, las cuentas bancarias vacías, y el temor a mantener a un vividor, me habría hecho pequeño, insulsa ráfaga cansada de aire erguido, gran soplo arrastrado por una cara bonita Barbie Super Star en el bulevar de los sueños rotos

You don’t have a name, you're what's never explained crystal chamber the sea pale bedroom where I wonder in tears cellophane planet tumulus fishbowl autumn fog and more shipwrecked in the mysterious dance of a smile

Acentúas los pliegues de mis ojos Mi viejo hechicero, lento desgarrar de mi tibia negrura, golpeas tu cuerpo sobre mis costillas mientras me desdoblo y te miro desde la esquina de mi cama mordiendo mi espalda, acariciando mis pezones, acabando con mi rio, fatigado, arropando en mi noche.

En la voz baja de tu hermosura No gusto de flor primaveral, prefiero jardín otoñal, flor marchita a punto de partir, tallo besado de ayeres, tobogán experto en el delirio con nalgas estrujando  la tibieza de mi cuerpo. 

Solar Music At the edge of a dream in progress a rowboat, a faceless shadow, invites me to drown in its waters. Uncertainty enters my feet, awakens another part of me and spreads a cold sweat on my forehead. I jump from the dream, switch on the light trembling.

Despicable Night I don’t remember loving you but I do recall walking by your side, your indigo eyes, lips Parfait-Amour , walkway of the sad and lonely.

Aligerando el paso No encuentro descanso, amores impúdicos tocan constantemente a mi puerta. Me rodean, rondan mis ojos como vírgenes ciegas. Se escurren entre mis piernas buscando el calor que en tiempos pasado colmaba mis sentidos de dicha. Ya ni lo busco, no quiero la cama, no inquiero la calma. El desajuste de horas se arremolina en mi mano lubricada. Es el olvido, la inmisericordia de mi soledad.

We're all that's left “quedamos nosotros, victoriosos, con alas y deseos y dientes y locura.” Efraín Huerta The two of us lying on the sand after making love on the beach. You said it’s late but I couldn’t imagine you'd leave. I remember the treaded paths, the beach resorts where our hands defeated our bodies. We were hybrids dreaming of words and other fevered voices while others sank like rocks in the fog. I don’t remember how many of these encounters we had, the torn arteries, the bottomless anguish deleted from my memory, the storm traveling inland destroying my divided past.

We're all that's left “quedamos nosotros, victoriosos, con alas y deseos y dientes y locura.” Efraín Huerta The two of us lying on the sand after making love on the beach. You said it’s late but I couldn’t imagine you'd leave. I remember the treaded paths, the beach resorts where our hands defeated our bodies. We were hybrids dreaming of words and other fevered voices while others sank like rocks in the fog. I don’t remember how many of these encounters we had, the torn arteries, the bottomless anguish deleted from my memory, the storm traveling inland destroying my divided past.

We're all that's left “quedamos nosotros, victoriosos, con alas y deseos y dientes y locura.” Efraín Huerta The two of us lying on the sand after making love on the beach. You said it’s late but I couldn’t imagine you leaving. I remember the treaded paths, the beach resorts where our hands defeated our bodies. We were hybrids dreaming of words and other fevered voices while others sank like rocks in the fog. I don’t remember how many of these encounters we had, the torn arteries, the bottomless anguish deleted from my memory, the storm traveling inland destroying my divided past.