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home | poetry forum | Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

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EVENING

Evening approached without shoes
above our houses.
It made little effort to show
its moon face with stars.
The temperature fell. Wind
blasted the roof tiles.
It felt like the last day of life
on earth. Nothing could
be done. The blue sky was gone.
The light went blind till
morning. Evening’s moon
eye with stars provided a
glimmer of light
in the dark sky.
Our senses were on alert.
Fear was prowling around
from moment to moment.
The trees were trembling.
Evening walked off without sound.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(added 08.28.10)

LET EARTH

Let Earth welcome us
like a friend
not an unwanted visitor.

Let Earth shelter us
like a house
and trust us to be human.

Do not trust in war
machines, guns, and bombs.
Love the human race.

Feel the dry branches
and green leaves.
Do not turn your back on the lame.

Let Earth heal our pain,
bring us joy,
and comfort for the rest of our lives.

Let Earth feed our thirst,
hunger, and
what our souls and hearts crave.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(featured in the poetry forum 08.28.10)

Yes, let's let Earth do all of these things. Let's not make her twitch like a horse plaqued by flies, lest we fly off into the stratosphere, with no where left to stand. Thanks, Luis!!

FUNERAL IN THE SKY

The sky is filled with the corpses of birds.
I forget when I had this nightmare.
There is a funeral in the sky for the birds.
The sky splits open and the birds disappear.

I remember this dream made me weep.
I wore dark sunglasses that day.
I looked up and saw a lone grave in the sky.
It disappeared before I could dry my eyes.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(added 08.28.10)

BORN IN THE WATER

I was born in the water.
The wind gave birth to me.
I was weary and angry.
My backbone was bent out of shape.

The night took care of me.
The sun wanted to kill me.
I armed myself with stones.
I plunged them into the water
where the sun’s reflection
was looking back at me.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(featured in the poetry forum 07.22.10)

HANGING ON TREES


She made jewelry
and gave it away.
Left it hanging on
trees for others to
snatch like fruit.

She gave away all
her possessions.
Money, clothes, it
did not matter. She
lost weight, at

least thirty pounds.
She tried to drink
herself to death. But
you must have heard
stuff like this.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(added 07.22.10)

WHEN YOU THINK OF GOD?

When you think of God
does your heart have faith?
When the wind blows strong
is it God sighing?

A weightless breeze spreads
seeds throughout the fields.
Who laughs in your face?
Some arrogant fiend?

You smile when the swift
wind cools you off. Your
sad face disappears.

You look up at a
bee up in a tree.
Does the bee know God?

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(added 07.22.10)

DARK THOUGHTS

Between sentences
a light goes off in
my mind; then a dark

emptiness fills the
room. The thoughts of a
madman asks, who are
you? Wearing a red
tie, the madman asks,
what man walks in my

shoes? The dark thoughts fill
my room. I hear
a rat running up
the stairs. The madman
asks, who is hungry?
The madman walks to
the kitchen. He asks,
who is that at the
door? He aims his big
gun at his dark thoughts.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(featured in the poetry forum 04.12.10)

BAD IDEA

I’m going to marry a
lovely man I met here.
However, my mother
thinks it’s a bad idea.

I promise her this will work.
She said I am just a child.
I’ll be twenty one
this year. I’m not a baby.

She treats us like we’re dumb
for being in love. I’m tired
of these pills and rules.

The psychiatrist thinks
that I’m not normal.
But he is the one who’s crazy.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(added 04.12.10)

ANOTHER NIGHT COMES

Another night comes.
It does not let up.
It comes with its moon,
its stars, the darkness,
and sometimes it just
keeps on going. When
you hope for morning
and the comfort of
light, the darkness seems
to linger. Lights falls
somewhere else, not here.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(added 04.12.10)

MY MIND

My mind is high like the moon.
I wash my face with cold water.
My high mind does not come down.
I cannot clear my thoughts.
They are without restraint
and I apologize for my thoughts
to those who could read my mind.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(added 11.27.09)

THE EVIL MIRROR

I carry myself
in a quiet manner.
I don’t like watching
myself in the mirror.

I sense a kind of
falsehood in the way
the mirror reflects
the way I appear. I

grimace. If this was
a snapshot, I’d burn it.
The evil mirror
looks deeper inside
of me. It makes me
want to destroy myself.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(added 11.27.09)

LITTLE MONKEY POEM

I carry it in my pocket.
A little monkey poem on
a string. I take it out now
and then and drop it like
a yo-yo. The little monkey
poem dances like a do-do.

Sometimes I cut the string
and the little monkey poem
goes ape on the town. It
gets in all sorts of trouble.
I need to bail it out of jail.
Should I leave it at the zoo?

I don’t know what to do with
it. I feel responsible for what
it does sometimes. The little
monkey poem usually gets
out of line. I think I have
to give it away to someone.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(featured in the poetry forum 11.27.09)

"r" by peycho kanev

Check out the new chapbook "Overcome" by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal.
Click here to read Mad Swirl's review and to order a copy of "Overcome".

THE YELLOW GRASS

Down by the grass
the wasps fly low.
Do they rest or
tie their small
invisible shoes?

Black ants take up
smoking from the
lit cigarette
butts lying
on the yellow grass.

Stretched out on the
dying grass the
cat worries me.
It's getting
old and it won't eat.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(featured in the poetry forum 09.18.09)

THE WIFE I NEVER MET

All my sons have died.
My daughters too.
They were never born.
I haven't met my wife.

Perhaps she is out
by the apple
tree, longing for the
husband of her dreams.

He likes apples and
women like her,
bronze like the land
and Spanish speaking.

She likes men who are
dreamers, who like
apples, who dream
of someone like her.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(added 09.18.09)

LIFE AFTER THE PSYCHIATRIC WARD

My life after involuntary treatment
includes living somewhere where
everyone gets along with me.

I would also like to find an easy job,
where I won't feel pressured, but
I'm not sure if such a job exists.

I would like to live with my family.
However, they don't like it when I
hallucinate and talk to myself.

The city where I grew up seems very
good. I would like to live close
to my family so they can visit me.

I want to meet a woman to love
romantically, conversationally,
and sexually. However, I don't

think my chances are good because
I hear and see things. I don't see
why I can't stay here forever.

- Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

(added 09.18.09)

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A bit about Luis: Luis was born in Mexico. He lives and works in Los Angeles County , CA. His first book of poetry, Raw Materials, was published by Pygmy Forest Press, which can be ordered through his e-mail.

Read reviews of
Raw Materials:
www.rumble.sy2.com
www.remarkpoetry.net

Read more work by Luis:
www.laurahird.com
www.unlikelystories.org

Chapbooks by Luis:
Still Human is available from
Kendra Steiner Editions. Send $4.00 postpaid in the US, check payable to Bill Shute, or well concealed cash:

14080 Nacogdoches Rd. #350,

San Antonio, Texas, 78247.

Outside the US, it’s $5 postpaid, via paypal. Write to django5722 (at) yahoo (dot) com and request a paypal invoice.

Before And Well After Midnight from Deadbeat Press, is available at lulu.com

Luis on MySpace:
Luis

Contact Luis:
cuatemochi@aol.com