Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

Do not Insist They've broken your heart. Love is not love. Cling to the mast. Your ship is sinking and there is no God under sea or in sky listening to your lament, Ovid. Shut up and learn. Let silence and storm guide your sails.

Plath I found life mixed among the colors of death My love amid violent reds of empty lyrics No one knows the loud speaker they hear is my heart There is a stone extending its arms to embrace the burning moss of my breath Nobody sees me riding naked on the warm spine and emery of metaphors when silence shoots me in the mouth and horror vomits my bloody light with the crushed skulls of my dreams.

Two Poems Up @ Ordinary Madness, Weasel Press

Natural State of Being I live between appeared and disappeared, in women's or ghost's clothing. I cross the folds of the mirror and remain lucid, guilty of dead dreams in my consciousness. A bite-proof bird. I lay my eggs on trees in secret islands like a frigatebird. My natural state: wild fruit grove  with frost that does not mature, a child in diapers queen of the blind flight. Appear and disappear, a simple skin graft and I am the other and the same. .

I just got my hard copy of Into The Void - Issue 5, Fall 2017 

Poem Up @ The Voices Project   - At Midnight

Three Poems Published in The Right Launch Literary Magazine

In a Dark Room The rope hangs my eyesight and I can't see the flight. I’m drunk on this island in flames. Can't screw my eye if everything is screwed up in here.

Hey, Skinny! You are the most powerful oven on earth you live in Paris ―almost 7 thousand Km away and yet you heat me

The Nerve You let me buy you jockstraps, boxers and aftershave plus invite you to lunch at the healthiest naturalist restaurant & if that weren't enough on the way home you asked me for a moisturizing cream to be soft for the sonofabitch who’s running his hands through your body at six.

Hold On I’m bitching about this hospice for the indigent Word. I don’t want to be trapped in this caricature, my song bouncing off the archway germinating the cracks on the floor with my shit. Where the fuck are you?

Remembering Archer I dismounted your sex. Let go of your lips. Untangled our legs. Threw out the condoms. Night started at 8:00 till 4:00 in the morning. We slept. Huddled up in wait of the day.

First Takeover The day has three faces you must bundle it up before smoking it You can't roll it and put it away because it tastes different, dry You can't buy prepaid days lined up in a box We senses days the same way a bassist guesses the entrance of the piano or , he sax it's announced by the aroma of coffee we drink like evictees

Ficus leaves are hearts of stars they rise like a herd of gestures that lunch on cobwebs and read fire like nervous owls they mend each other like fire mount each other like dust swallow each other like seas revise each other like air perennially brief perennially fleeing They're leaves              loving each other                    they only rise

I Let Myself Fall I know my life will end the way a storm ceases― dissolved in your image already water I’ll return to your sweetness― sparkling wings of doves spread more air than the hurricanes your face lost in the crowd, using my hand  as its bed , dictates my death a throb under the asphalt awaits ... the stream of life that shapes and destroys me arrives at your shrine crossing your garden, pierced so many times by the bougainvillea I turn away life forgetful of the tumble

crossing your garden, pierced so many times by the bougainvillea         I turn away life forgetful of the tumble

a throb under the asphalt awaits ... stream of life that shapes and destroys me arrives at your shrine

your face lost in the crowd, lying in bed on my hand, dictates my death

I’ll return to your sweetness― sparkling wings of doves spread more air than the hurricanes