Vulture barefoot / Poems by Silvia Ortiz


Poems by Silvia Ortiz



Vulture barefoot


I’ve stopped my verses tonight
The Siege of lights I’ve forgotten
Between the step by step in that
Ernesto Philip used to sing
I’ve seen him from time to cross the street
I’ve watched him with calm
And curious tenderness at the gates of oblivion
I’ve walked your fears
Its inner workings
The Fury of his afternoon
His gentle awakening
His wistful look right on the edge
Of his mental illness
I’ve entered the shops
At the supermarket without him has noticed
For fear of the vulture barefoot
The touch of tourists
The Lighting Flash under the snake river
Runs over their prey waters
Hard as asphalt
The rigorous popular destination
Washington DC
The many monuments and museums
In their respective theological strokes
Ernesto Felipe sleeps
The Invisible stitching on the hem
His sack has embedded the cup
And it was his house the coat rack
Of my verses that night
The improper conduct of ambush and falls
Drunk and stumble over each other and more
In the land of trance depressive
His Spirit is in darkness
In the houses torn down
Just to see you cry a little at a time
Has stifled the lentils of your clothes
Tell me Ernesto Felipe
If this verse sacred moves
The water of the sea on the face of corals
Tell me about your exploits at night
The Maze of incense
In the spectrum of the finish and the hidden pouch
Tell me how he is attending the morning
In the bell of doubts?
Tell me how the threat acuña
The heart attack of your dream?
Tell me what stops the arch of your books
And the wet seats?
Tell me what piece of porcelain hide
The cigarette tight in your teeth fatigued?
At the door of the mental health
Another intimidation comes
There is no longer the cry from the pulpit mental
Where all we
The dead letter of a book
The deterioration of the sea persists
In don’t understand the dilemma
In rubble of other streets moved
Before the depressing picture
That catches the forest complex
In the game of eyes skeptics
Between reflexes gyrus
Between magnificent colors
A few of us want to save
You can go back in the mud of consciences
In which addresses the swamp?
The fatal lockdown has to deal with a complaint
In the years of a single song
An enormous disappointment, saves me
A loved one important
In abuse of alcohol
And you don’t know friend reader
What is uncertain which can be
On this side of the accommodation in the life of the groan
To achieve the victory
A biological disorder
This is the uphill of drowning
A lot of bark in his chest
A lot of shoal in game
And the enjoyment of his dream
It’s his cuirass asleep
Asleep tired from crying
Nothing I write this subject
In the secret alba
In that climb to my bed
The best of the rain
To see me totally naked
And if you’re going on a tangent
Of hesitation between my dream
A child enter the wind
To see the fallen angel
In the field of the swing
His memory in the gender
Spot of his harrowing
Perfect key of suicidal thoughts
In the families close it supports the suspicion
The embrace of the heat known circulating
What do you say of severe brain disorder
And the effort in the doctor’s assistant?
What you tell me of fraudulent readers vested
After extensive descriptions that descend to spell
From the heavens to heil?
What do you say of the infinite voices in the night
Of designs that will lead to a cure surmountable?
Other voices in the interior of this drama
It’s the story of mosses
The own schizophrenia
As the lily in a button
The scenes do not exempt from dread
An unreal world or imperfect
The observance laughable in each curtain
For the obituary not arrival
Desired by the signature
And the one who is contrite episode
Don’t leave me please!
The Bipolar Disorder, little is known
Is Eduardo Felipe which describes
The accounts between her fingers bitten
For the notes in his hands
And the vines are forced from their oblivion
Is Eduardo Philip the waiting
That new column
And the crowd to his side
Only a few care about the pain
What explanation excelsa took me when they stick to you
The arms in a tumult faked?
What mood or despondency enter
In the serpentine of your being?
Every day I try to stroke it in your eyes
Who are the long judicious basins
In the weakness of your face?
What loves deep you go in the visit degraded
Hidden in the seas?
Disease of the brain and what?
What of those who without being prisoners
A Trace of bipolarity desazones
In the universe more and more outlaw?
What about the who ingested pills of colors
In the faith of its effects
In the calm of the sun
In the skylight of unusual mood
I’ve seen them
I’ve been meaning to all shrinking
In the evil depression
And tell me you what did you do?
Did you know the hug in terror?
What ups and downs oooh my brother?
I wish this verse nights plus
For the vigilance and the cultivation of readings
In your eyes and a I love you.




Ojo de Pez II



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