—Poetry by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal,
West Covina, CA
—Public Domain Visuals
THE LAND OF BIRDS
Head on
to the land of birds
to the world
where the scenery is filled with song and things that fly.
A crow
holds court, the songs it
sings are noise.
The chaotic songs do not waver.
The trees outnumber buildings.
Birds walk on the lawn
and across the street.
The sun shines.
This world, this land does
not know snow.
Head on
to the land of birds
to the world
where the scenery is filled with song and things that fly.
A crow
holds court, the songs it
sings are noise.
The chaotic songs do not waver.
The trees outnumber buildings.
Birds walk on the lawn
and across the street.
The sun shines.
This world, this land does
not know snow.
DEEP INTO WINTER
The sun intrudes
into our lives.
Driving in this
summer heat makes
me lose my mind.
To be so deep
into winter,
that is what I
want. These days I
melt with the trees.
They must feel the
heat too. Its shade
is a savior.
I am sure it
must feel the burn
on its branches
and leaves. The rain
that does not come
must be keeping
itself cool while
we burn and burn.
The sun intrudes
into our lives.
Driving in this
summer heat makes
me lose my mind.
To be so deep
into winter,
that is what I
want. These days I
melt with the trees.
They must feel the
heat too. Its shade
is a savior.
I am sure it
must feel the burn
on its branches
and leaves. The rain
that does not come
must be keeping
itself cool while
we burn and burn.
A DAY IN MAY
Waiting on a June day in May
and a July weekend as well.
I think I want an August week
and what of September? Time
moves too slow for my liking.
Away with the rest of the year.
Let’s cut the ribbons on a New
Year. The Twenty-Twenty-Two
seems fine with me. Across the
Universe and White Rabbit are
my songs. The two of them back
to back never make me blue.
A day in May is fine with me.
A day in May never gets old.
A day in May is all I want.
That is just how I roll. Across
the Universe and White Rabbit
is what I want to hear. Nobody
gets me. That is fine with me.
A day in May is like no other.
The year can takes its time.
I will enjoy it as it passes by.
Waiting on a June day in May
and a July weekend as well.
I think I want an August week
and what of September? Time
moves too slow for my liking.
Away with the rest of the year.
Let’s cut the ribbons on a New
Year. The Twenty-Twenty-Two
seems fine with me. Across the
Universe and White Rabbit are
my songs. The two of them back
to back never make me blue.
A day in May is fine with me.
A day in May never gets old.
A day in May is all I want.
That is just how I roll. Across
the Universe and White Rabbit
is what I want to hear. Nobody
gets me. That is fine with me.
A day in May is like no other.
The year can takes its time.
I will enjoy it as it passes by.
TRAMPLED FLOWER
I find myself in the garden
like a trampled flower.
Above the sun is witness,
a thorn of light and fire.
The song of crows is deafening
and not much appreciated.
The lone tree in the yard
is always offering its shade.
I see myself overcoming
all that ails me at this moment.
A roar of thunder in the distance
does not scare me too much.
TURN THE MOONLIGHT DOWN
Tonight I will turn
the moonlight down.
Some night I might go
out or open a
window. I will face
the moon, but tonight
I will stay in. I
need some privacy.
I will write one or
two poems in my
own style, something real
simple and real sad.
Tonight I will turn
the moonlight down.
Some night I might go
out or open a
window. I will face
the moon, but tonight
I will stay in. I
need some privacy.
I will write one or
two poems in my
own style, something real
simple and real sad.
EVERY FOOTSTEP
Every footstep
slowly takes me
toward the end
and the start of
one more day. How
I can I give
thanks to all who
have guided me?
If only I
did not have you,
my life would be
a failure. Life
with you is bliss.
I have only
my heart beating
to your footsteps.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
FOUND POEM
—Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal
So much is found
at the bottom of
my shoes, discarded
gum, mud, and worse things
you cannot wash away.
___________________
Our thanks to Luis Berriozabal for his poetry today from down Southern California-way. He’s talking to us about the heat and how the hot season seems to drag on and on, hollowing us out. Thanks for returning to the Kitchen today, Luis!
For more crow facts, go to www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/a-murder-of-crows-crow-facts/5965/.
__________________
—Medusa
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
