Latin American Anthology - Young Poetry

IF you left (Anthology of Poetry Loving III International Prize 2005, Published by the Circulo de Bellas Artes de Palma de Mallorca, Spain) When you left and close the ojosSin want the sky begins to sollozarY you you walk away and you callasSerán your Moorish eyes, colored tear winters.

Tonight, stay there and not there amor.Espera scope of melancholy cielosMas blue I know what you hide behind that devastating coloresDulcemente game on earth.

Maybe I can take pasosTal spring to life again see close your ojosTal time before the summer will vayaYo can teach you to where souls lean look.

Now that there is nothing so tristeQuizás caminoPorque ask me the autumn falls I follow when writing the paredAl your nombreAl red blue writing my verses.

Whether the maresLo tristor of going behind your sombraNo care. I will sing, I paint, I love you másPorque I may be both more quieroUna vecesComo gull tierraUn light on the journey of temptation in the evening.

LlorarSi you should not see the gesture of the hand abandonadaQue and have not thought about the pencil fríoEn repentinamenteDesde boy angel paper looks back at you.

And not far from my ladoPorque your breathing and has no return perhaps the earth that you ocultaDe relámpagosQue flock of pilgrims on the long road of your eyes.

But you already know that I can not delve shortcuts of your silence. Here's blood, fire, hence almah just say in the vast wave of suicide when you do faltaPienses crepuscular.Que I have flown to dismiss the gray afternoon sun. ZERO (New Writers' Anthology 2004 meeting, organized by the Scientific University of the South / Lima - Peru) I seek to kill the verses scratch cards debts of the soul.

But the steps are the zeros trasplantadosSon hostiasQue cerosY worth all the bitter tears.

A zero may tresSobre ceroDos men the giblets piesSon frentesEn strong, very strong.

So we took the cerosSostenidos in the breath of a grim masaQue Balaena is covered in the vacuum of a table.

A zero zero left in a life asiloUn Clausuræ any window you see the moon abiertaY be sorry viejoTan asomaUn secoQue men say DéjenloYa leaves. WHEN THE WORLD ECHO A MOURN (Anthology of New Writers Meeting 2004, organized by the Scientific University of the South / Lima - Peru)

If a man wrote to mundoMares, Evenings, Freedom! The compadeceríaNo smile and everything is more human than type in the human nocheNo cry no more Eternity!

If a man wrote to otroLlanos, Cordilleras, Love! The mud was never afraid ansiedadAbrazaría nadaDesesperado in the echo of screaming my, my, have not hablesEllos Kill!

And the day came when the patients were captured by muerteLa arenaAlgo dried blood in the body that was exposed in the firmamentoYa everything was absent.

The world in arms carrying the memoriaY esqueletosPersiguió she find in writing by the hombreRecordó their songs, their lyrics, their numbers, their fire, their existenciaEsté sadder than other nochesSe slept, he began to mourn. THE FACES OF THE NIGHT (Embrace International Competition and Amateur Erotic Poetry 2002 anthology of erotic poetry and Latin amatory "Letters poured out? - Brazil / Uruguay) madrugadamuy reclining silent in the face of the light alone in my fantasy come lunarneutro in tempuscriando the rarity of be yours and you mine.

It invades the room with your hairless macabre sexodeseándote fragile deliver to the imagination of my concienciadesatando pernicious passions almost golpeque a look or a smile may reach the abyss bastapara where the vast realm of horizontesiembre ocasoautentico in our lives a garden land, sea and living stars.

Impatiently curtailed entibiadala stinking blanket my body go through finding virgendevorado miserable and always with humor on the night of restful sleep masturbaciónrompiendo the no one breaks the pleasure of escucharser your secret love.

We are connected to the pavement sodomite of the youth of our cuerposmarcando my bare chest deseomordisqueando hungry in my labia, enter you bless the wreck in the depths of your belly.

Shaking like a dove dying inesperadome expects you gave your flower-laden land estelaroriginaria fire by the antichrist santasprofanadas medioevono stop my marchani it also failed to stop the march of the Crusaders conquered the shadow desiertoque crepúsculosintiendo scarlet lips feel rojosla same image left in my falouna rojizasoberbia phosphorescent spot to get out of your entrañasy sad, because it is the first and only in your life.

We live in idle soft bamboleosadquiriendo camamoviéndonos with amnesia for the body to combat terror cuerpocompartiendo not move with our fiery passions gozoamamantando euforiacon find safety in all sizes and tread sentidossolía interiorera spaces so tenuous revolution symphony of your respirarinocencia burning there, in the virgin of our naked bodies.

Now what erogenous dragging the extremidadesacariciando, moans filled my chest my dream street vague vague.

I'm eating, without pausalas obscenities and unique pubispero your little delusional and vainglorious satisfaction of my almahace that both serve to praise lenceríate sex and talk about the small and beautiful perversionesporque also been fervently radiantessacudiéndonos dying on the shore of cubilcuando without uttering a word deseosque spit from your lips wet spring of chastity.

Solitariopostrado to the beauty of the nocheinsinúas of just the edge of your pielsurcas the sacrilegious desire to touch and kiss her face in my body, so you tend to ask in silenciohacerte fríoque love once more. STAND will die (Anthology of National Poetry II Movida 2001, organized by Peru's National Radio) will die of pied front, facing the fear of open solSin one hundred rays furiaQuemen ojosCuando my pielAbran my pechoY oppress me the soul.

So I will live today! For todasSe furies seize tristeCanto melancholy singing my heart out of anything that would rather die in your manosPara not climb on maren a sad soul duel.

SabesYa nadaPorque not want to die born to be a ángelQue open their land to live life.

Is that they are my waves in my Almasera penasCrucificadas a sip of your friendly liquor vinoEl acariciaMis many regrets.

Perhaps my cigars are buzzing with my martirios.Y abrilesEl hearing the shout muertosQue Value and battle!

Who but the death that inhabits the insides if hablarSin respirar.Acaso are esquirlasLos hits humanasQue cholera vidaPedazos I most like to have my dwelling in adentrosPara not forget my revenge

Tell me you've seen Will I mourn yesterday? Because I cried and did not cost anything. Friday there will be burned as hoyQue lagrimasQue leave us there the lejosMi mother someday, he saw them pasarCuando agora A duel in their footsteps.

You know I will have to die of pieY not afraid of anything.