—Poetry and Visuals by
Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal,
West Covina, CA
NEW YEAR AGAIN
December spills into January.
The skies are illuminated by fireworks
and the dogs bark with aching ears.
The sun is about a quarter of the day away.
I have champagne pouring in a clean glass.
The new year has come with last year’s virus.
I feel the summer heat in winter.
It is a new year again.
The children are getting older.
There is ripe moon in the new year sky.
__________________________
SOUL SHADOW
The shadow
of a soul
in autumn
seeks the creators
of its birth.
Orphaned,
loveless, night
swallows its
form in the dark.
December spills into January.
The skies are illuminated by fireworks
and the dogs bark with aching ears.
The sun is about a quarter of the day away.
I have champagne pouring in a clean glass.
The new year has come with last year’s virus.
I feel the summer heat in winter.
It is a new year again.
The children are getting older.
There is ripe moon in the new year sky.
__________________________
SOUL SHADOW
The shadow
of a soul
in autumn
seeks the creators
of its birth.
Orphaned,
loveless, night
swallows its
form in the dark.
TO BE BLIND
The arrow finds the heart in love.
The archers find the heart in war.
Love is blind just as war is blind.
The green grass is stained with blood.
The pierced hearts beat no more.
The warm bodies turn cold as
lilies grow around them.
The blood-red moon shines above
surrounded by purplish clouds.
The dead gives one the quivers
as pools of red dew fill their eyes.
If you want to be blind, choose love.
The archers find the heart in war.
Do not let war blind you if you can choose.
_____________________
SO FAR AWAY
Here, I am hardly satisfied,
when you are so far away.
It is as if you and I have
disappeared. Are you not
understanding what I mean,
face in the mirror, what
happened to you? Here I
stand, pleading with you.
Come back like you once
were. You and I are me.
The arrow finds the heart in love.
The archers find the heart in war.
Love is blind just as war is blind.
The green grass is stained with blood.
The pierced hearts beat no more.
The warm bodies turn cold as
lilies grow around them.
The blood-red moon shines above
surrounded by purplish clouds.
The dead gives one the quivers
as pools of red dew fill their eyes.
If you want to be blind, choose love.
The archers find the heart in war.
Do not let war blind you if you can choose.
_____________________
SO FAR AWAY
Here, I am hardly satisfied,
when you are so far away.
It is as if you and I have
disappeared. Are you not
understanding what I mean,
face in the mirror, what
happened to you? Here I
stand, pleading with you.
Come back like you once
were. You and I are me.
THIS BODY IS TIRED
Take me to
the resting place.
This body is tired.
Soon, I will be gone.
Mercy, mercy me.
Does anyone care for me?
The time has come.
I am a shipwreck
Outstretched on the rack.
This body is tired.
It lies in pain.
Bring me the light.
I do not feel well.
It seeks a Hail Mary.
_____________________
DESERTED ISLAND
I am my own deserted island,
the only soul inside my mind.
I found that it is for the best.
If you want to come by, I can
let go of my solitude for a while.
It will be us on this deserted
island, but there is room for more.
I have been single for so long.
That is enough for me. Did you
ever think of me as something
more? I have heard all the jokes.
Tell me another one. I want to laugh
with you. We could laugh together.
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
I HEAR YOU
—Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
I hear you
with my own ears
and I see you
all the time
with eyes closed
and you are beautiful.
______________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Luis Berriozábal for today’s fine poems and pix!
Take me to
the resting place.
This body is tired.
Soon, I will be gone.
Mercy, mercy me.
Does anyone care for me?
The time has come.
I am a shipwreck
Outstretched on the rack.
This body is tired.
It lies in pain.
Bring me the light.
I do not feel well.
It seeks a Hail Mary.
_____________________
DESERTED ISLAND
I am my own deserted island,
the only soul inside my mind.
I found that it is for the best.
If you want to come by, I can
let go of my solitude for a while.
It will be us on this deserted
island, but there is room for more.
I have been single for so long.
That is enough for me. Did you
ever think of me as something
more? I have heard all the jokes.
Tell me another one. I want to laugh
with you. We could laugh together.
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
I HEAR YOU
—Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
I hear you
with my own ears
and I see you
all the time
with eyes closed
and you are beautiful.
______________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Luis Berriozábal for today’s fine poems and pix!
For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
in the links at the top of this page.
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
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work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
