Tuesday, 6 September 2022

Four Poems by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal

 


Less Than Immortal

 

She had a sun tattoo on her back.

A savage sun blinded her eyes.

She aimlessly walked, heedless to

advice to wear sunblock. The days

grew warmer as she walked block

after block. She was living as if she

exhumed immortality. She borrowed

fruit from the garden of earthly

delights. Her snowy years were

covered with hair dye. Her limping 

 

came from tight fitting shoes. Her

pale skin was brutalized at high noon.

Her fancy dresses were tattered and

old. I could see her withering. She

 

seemed like the walking dead. Her

long dresses scraped the pavement.

She was bound for the cemetery 

where corpses are less than immortal,

a vast cemetery with a lake and trees

that made the grounds not so gloomy.

Her hair was falling out. She felt like

her love of life was slipping away.

A heavy rain began to fall like if it had 

 

not fallen in a thousand years.

 

 

Beginners of Sorts

 

Offer me nothing.

Take all I can give.

Beginner of sorts.

Sane just in my mind.

 

Together let’s find

hell and its lost souls.

You and I are just

beginners of sorts.

 

Open your heart. 

Same as I will.

 

Song and dance begins.

Mountains fill with haze.

Ocean welcomes fog.

Films are being made.

 

Reason has no clue.

Times are getting strange.

Lines are filling up.

True love lies dormant.

 

Happen to be free.

Shake the cobwebs off.

Beginners of sorts.

Stake your heart with wood.

 

Smiling as you bleed.

Need a transfusion.

You know we are just

beginners of sorts.

 

Love is all you need.

Succeed and go on.

 

Song and dance ensues.

Mountains clearing up.

Heartaches come and go.

Films are being shot.

 

Reason has no clue.

Times are so bizarre.

Lines keep getting crossed.

True love starts to breathe.

 

 

On the Porch 

 

I sat on the porch.

I saw her leave never to return.

I sat on the beach.

I saw her leave and felt the sun’s burn.

 

She is far away.

I said all I can say, even goodbye.

I sit here at home.

I have no reason to keep beating myself up

like a boxer fighting himself.

 

I can see the sky

from this porch. I can see the birds.

I wave at neighbours.

I see them walk their dogs all day.

I sit out in front

of the house. I stay here for hours.

There is nothing to cry about anymore.

 

I see the sun coming up.

There’s something beautiful about it.

It is relentless like a

boxer training to be the next champion.

I was a punching bag, so I know.

 

I see the cars drive

from my seat on the porch.

I only wave to the drivers I know.

I see them leave to

destinations unknown. ‘Round and

‘round they go. I stay here all day.

I stay here for hours.

I will stay here until I am ready

to go on with my life. 

 

 

Grandiosity Blues 

 

On Thursday 

I declare myself

a cop who

only kills killers.

 

On Friday I 

will be a judge

overturning fascist 

laws by lunchtime.

 

In the evening

I will be Friday’s

blind date for 

Miss Universe.

 

I will take her 

to my castle in

París, France

on my private jet.

 

Saturday and

Sunday we will take

a cruise on

my yacht to the Greek

 

islands and eat,

drink, and be merry.

Monday I 

will sleep through the day;

 

Tuesday and

Wednesday too. Thursday 

I will be

God, creating new worlds.




Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal - lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles, CA. His poetry has appeared online and in print. His work has been published by Blue Collar Review, Kendra Steiner Editions, Nerve Cowboy, Pygmy Forest Press, and Unlikely Stories.


 

 

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