—Poetry by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal, West Covina, CA
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
LOST SOUL
It could be two o’clock,
somewhere near
the witching hour.
The milky stars shine so
bright and a
black cat meows.
It moves like lightning as
I shout out
to keep it down.
I find trouble in dreams
which keep me
awake, pacing.
The closed curtains become
a cause for
concern. I feel
like a ghost hides behind
there, a lost
soul, just like me.
It could be two o’clock,
somewhere near
the witching hour.
The milky stars shine so
bright and a
black cat meows.
It moves like lightning as
I shout out
to keep it down.
I find trouble in dreams
which keep me
awake, pacing.
The closed curtains become
a cause for
concern. I feel
like a ghost hides behind
there, a lost
soul, just like me.
PINCH OF SALT
I feel as small
as a pinch of
salt. The world has
swallowed me
whole. Soon I will
be a pinch of
nothingness. If
I go to sea
like everyone
who feels like I
do, will the sea
be replenished
with our essence?
NO BETTER TIMES
There is no better times
for false alarms. I watch
the bee circling me and
I feel the sting that does
not come. My body feels
tired and my nose runs.
The worry alone makes
it hard to breathe these
days. You can never have
too much precaution. I’m
not ready for my life to
be over. I think of all the
things I want to do, of all
the things I want to see.
This worry alone has tied
me up in a knot. I want to
remain among the living.
I bless each day I am here.
There is nothing I love
more than good news.
There is no better times
for false alarms. I watch
the bee circling me and
I feel the sting that does
not come. My body feels
tired and my nose runs.
The worry alone makes
it hard to breathe these
days. You can never have
too much precaution. I’m
not ready for my life to
be over. I think of all the
things I want to do, of all
the things I want to see.
This worry alone has tied
me up in a knot. I want to
remain among the living.
I bless each day I am here.
There is nothing I love
more than good news.
Snake Onna Roof
LOSING THE SNAKES
Your head spins like a top
and when it stops
your hair is like Medusa’s? I
love those curls. I
don’t mind losing the snakes
nor the venom in their bite.
The time for you and I is here.
Switch on the kindness
and put the snakes away forever.
Your head spins like a top
and when it stops
your hair is like Medusa’s? I
love those curls. I
don’t mind losing the snakes
nor the venom in their bite.
The time for you and I is here.
Switch on the kindness
and put the snakes away forever.
Ants Spitting to Defend the Nest
THE ANT MAN
In my dream
I stepped on
an ant hill.
In seconds
ants covered
every inch
of my foot,
lower leg,
and in a
minute my
whole body
was full of
ants. I could
not talk or
breathe. I could
not cry or
shed a tear.
I became
a giant
ant walking
down the street
in search of
something sweet
to devour.
FROM THE NIGHT
And from the night
the moon kept us in suspense.
The stars made us
feel beatified and as
poets we wrote it
down. We arose to the heavens.
The light took all
the gloom away. We took to
the moon and stars,
returned to the womb of life.
______________________
Today’s LittleNip:
UNDER THE RADAR
—Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
To go bodiless
weightless as a shadow
through rush hour traffic
and every red light unharmed,
under the radar
far from the hornet’s nest,
my body feels not a poke
and remains alive.
______________________
—Medusa, thanking Luis Berriozabal and welcoming him back to the Kitchen! May your dreams settle down and behave themselves, Luis!
And from the night
the moon kept us in suspense.
The stars made us
feel beatified and as
poets we wrote it
down. We arose to the heavens.
The light took all
the gloom away. We took to
the moon and stars,
returned to the womb of life.
______________________
Today’s LittleNip:
UNDER THE RADAR
—Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
To go bodiless
weightless as a shadow
through rush hour traffic
and every red light unharmed,
under the radar
far from the hornet’s nest,
my body feels not a poke
and remains alive.
______________________
—Medusa, thanking Luis Berriozabal and welcoming him back to the Kitchen! May your dreams settle down and behave themselves, Luis!
—Artwork by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
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.
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