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July June micro story

First Prize

No turning back
By María José Moreno



never learned the truth of what happened. As much as you try out in the last moments what went wrong, Diana fails to understand how the stars came together to go wrong.

I had it all decided, planned to the millimeter. I knew what time and how I would. Had calculated the time it would take her husband back and looking forward to Ernesto open the door. Sharpening his ear to hear the tinkling of the keys, but all was silent. Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes ... His vision is blurred, feel your body floating in the clouds and everything turns blue.

seems he hears something, try to open my eyes hoping they may acknowledge the noise, but not his eyelids do not respond, difficult to breathe. Again the blue and gold owl comes to her company, to point the way into the darkness. Twenty minutes, thirty minutes, forty minute ... How could calculate it so bad, she wailed as tears came into his eyes. Now there is no turning back.

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Poetry Prize Winners June Winners

R PRIME AWARD

Nymph compasses
By Nels Silva Urra on

The dove took flight, en route to your meeting
the Milky Way
confused their wings as the stars danced around.
Compass

time was surrounded by instruments
were the signs of the Zodiac, in search of Libra.
Aries with Gemini, gave no respite. Mariposa

sidereal hills beauty infinite space
nurturing memories in my arms, waiting for you. Clothes
my shadow, away from you, vague and endless walks
your wings Cover with old spray of flowers without pollen
invade my white hair and get tangled in my dreams. Leave no wake
the mysterious journey of yesterday, your kisses.

Moon

watches his hand under the heart, perhaps in the distance
is throbbing with each beat
and groans continue your skin Naughty
delivered to
sensual caresses of my hands, which today can only touch the
is still needed to be done ...

Write to
with the soul.

SECOND PRIZE

THRESHOLD D DESTINY

For Grechko Le

and Maldonado

infinite window, while
ábresele intimate stalking

of refuge
expected
univ ERSO, halo unveiled his chest
bird

belly on the edge of his journey

of transferring your skin moments

fill it in her arms, her soles
laughter and whimsy to your moon shadow

Tejel a touch of wing feathers

undress in silence,

wake her cold white cloud
unveiling of his dreams,

dressed when nostalgia
shut up and sailing his absence, the clock

gr avita moon in her eyes tracing
memory, to look

THIRD PRIZE

time curve in

For Morus

Staying
time curve

memories walking slowly, drinking

sleep from your eyes

feathering wings of desire. Hands





repeatable sound messages pigeons, blood flowing



forward slowly consumed in your fire.
Linked




intangible space stripping the soul to meet,

remember treading in the footsteps of

thoughts going through your skin.



A dream of closed eyelids

a groan drowned in the depths,

stars who gravitate

time a poem that involves desires.

HONORABLE MENTION

By Francisco Romero Diaz

Time freeing my beloved

enclosed oracles. Zodiac Pendulums



the guard at the palace of eternity. Run



minutes, take swift time,

to drag behind it a day and rush

weeks and months into years

for my muse will be free.



Women, owner of my caresses,

looks at the sky, you see my ambassador

with golden moon in the bright sky,

he takes you the song of my love,

thousand kisses on her wings and its really eye

tears in the waiting watered my soul.



free time

loved me that even in old age,

or death beyond that woman ...

nest in my arms.

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First Prize

The sea not seen Pedro Arturo Estrada

Normal

Ah, the sea, finally, the sea and yet nothing, not a word
pointed, nor expected cry.
Arena on shoes because you felt ashamed
undress on the beach, the white skin
scrawny clerk, baldness that wind and water
teach, obscene,
girls playing in the waves, with the sun in breasts, golden
as nymphs.

Ah, the sea, at last, the sea is blue shirts.
And you on the rock, silent, defeated.
The salt on your face without identifying who the
and heart drowning under absurd.

Ah, the sea, finally the sea and back, anger,
or not, the old fault for not entering the water as those
jumping and thoroughly penetrate
in life, love or the dark vertigo.

Ah, the sea, sea view, the more you win the tiredness,
the vacuum and is always night.
also left the girls with light.

And the sky is ominous, and there are storm winds.

Second Prize

The sea of \u200b\u200bdesires

César Tellería

Like a sky poured into the water, looks equally
blue sea of \u200b\u200bmy desire to plant color
bringing my passions,
love that my heart orphan browsing.

saturated At sea sick passions,
As a small brig grabs flight
sailed off in the wings of the wind ... Just

sees the light of love in your eyes shining beacon
That as he is marking the coast
that tells the route to get to your heart. When I anchor

in your arms and kiss your breasts, you can become
happy when I make love,
and take you in my arms around your waist I want to travel
happy with the first kiss ...

Third Prize

I be like you
Palmira Ortiz

Awe of adversity,
draw strength from the courage,
go against Wind,
of nothing
mourn and store everything in silence.

be like you;
would try to be like the sea,
that fierce onslaught against the rocks,
overflowing with soft foam
his strength, saying it was soft,
covered hate subtlety. You

haughty, proud
,
serene and silent,

magnificent eagle flying in this vast world,
that dominates everything at high altitudes,
it disdains all
for false or by common people.
Force fire, warmth
smoke
I want to be like you!

Honorable Mention

Mar

Elisa Golott

This purple dusk when the smell of your sea salt soaks my senses still, I'm stripped of my old clothes. I let the cold water of this magnificent ocean soak my feet, climb up my legs and cover my whole body.
Calm returns to my mind collapsed by the giddy chaos of thoughts, nothing hurts, everything happens and let the water takes forever all the carrion and returns me the energy accumulated through the centuries in its waters sometimes stormy other calmer and perfectly blue.
feel the hot sun and cool breeze on my being extremely thirsty peace and harmony. I leave here my grief and I get the revivals to join me from now on, and nothing touches me, I shall lacerations, I shall not intrude into what is left of this life.

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Poetry Month May Month May Winners Winners micro story

First Prize

AFTER THE STORM
By Carolina Fernandez

At that time, he stopped to listen. Maybe it was the routine, fatigue, or the dielectric selfishness. Anyway, Laura, never gave up and tried a thousand ways to tell. And his words were lost in the air, and their messages were not getting destination, to their prayers the covered their snoring. One evening, while her husband watched television, Laura is locked in the bathroom alone again, and wept. The first were tears of anger, then slid down the table laden with helplessness, when tears streamed down the floor of sadness, joined the memories and the promises. And they became rivers and waterfalls coming down the stairs with violence. The husband was wrecked among the waves and was found drifting dragged mercilessly tsunami, amid an ocean of oblivion. And on the edge of drowning surfaced, embracing the foot of the table. When he regained energy, he saw a bottle floating beside him. Uncorked and the cry went inside
- Mario, I have something to say! - begged his wife, and he heard.

Second Prize

SEA OF JEALOUSY
For Jesus Olague

sea awoke Monday tired of coming and going without pay, decided not to return, for on Wednesday and missed the games of children and the bare legs of the swimmers, but his pride was stronger, but today he's consumed by jealousy of rivers and lakes that have capitalized on his absence.

Third Prize

LIQUID COLLECTION
By Alejandro Cabrol

As years had curly eyes and had been generous with his chest to the ignominy of that fateful day since then devoted to dissect dawns with poise and precision watchmaker surgeon.

went round to the cottage of the valley as an omen of bad woven tunic white just wore gray afternoon. Strands such vague, Blow-in cheek enough to wash so much bitterness. Such moisture! Herds of minimum fuzzy rainbow lit on each front, each source; snorted on behind doors and windows.

That was not love, he could not get to see the rain with sunny outside: just heard roars and whispers, a well-known cry. Him, taciturn and timid and little he was born in those eyes and take care not to forget, now moored and leafy motif first of the new sea, emerged and died of old love. AWARD