—Visuals by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
THE SKIES CRY
I think it wants to drown us in its sorrow.
It wants to baptize us in its grief.
Have no doubt I tend to confabulate things.
The lone bird that flies overhead is a
messenger of rain. How far will it fly above
us before it disappears. I keep my eyes
on a corner of the sky where there are no
clouds. Soon it will no longer be raining.
Calm will wash over you and me. We will
not think twice about the rain. You and I
will go on our way under sunny skies.
How full they are before
they give birth to storms.
I read them and wonder if they
speak the language of water.
I am a fool for thinking such
thoughts about the clouds.
I do not feel ashamed, however,
as I try to make the sound of water.
BLANKET MY FLESH
I blanket my flesh with night.
It covers me from head to toe.
Up there are the moon and stars,
above where the planets exist.
I remain on the floor.
Sometimes I am in the sand
all covered up from head to toe.
Still as a solid rock.
I hear the laughs as I
bite my tongue.
I pray for sleeplessness to end
when my days grow heavy.
What else would you wish for?
I cannot stay awake for nonsense.
I need a break to escape it all.
I would love to sleep in total darkness.
The longer the darkness, the better.
I do not want to dream of real things.
Just shut off the lights, let night
come in total darkness. Let me sleep.
I AM AWKWARD
I am awkward.
Save yourself the time
when you try to guess
what I am thinking.
I do not know
myself where I am or
where I am going with
my thoughts most times.
I am awkward.
Still, I mean well, and
if you need to know, I
just want to live in peace.
I go inward.
I find a shell to keep
myself in when the world
starts dropping bombs.
Your affection is my affliction.
I burn the earth because of you.
I do not lie down for a minute.
How can I when I am on a quest?
I do not give up despite the pitfalls.
It is love I seek earnestly.
I lose big at every roll of the dice.
All I want is to be with you.
I do not know from where love grows.
O Goddess of my heart, show yourself.
I have kissed the frog in the mirror.
What a sap I have been all these years.
I long for the days of innocence,
where I walked and talked as a child.
I knew nothing of love or lust.
The universe was taking a nap.
The thirst for song
is still something
I can’t get my fill of,
and I want so much
for you to be the song
I sing, full of life
and love, a song
like a beautiful dream.
Leave the lyric behind.
Let silence be the chorus.
A song for the blind
in love, a mystery song.
A song from your breath,
the wind that guides me.
A song of joy that rests
in your heart and mine.
I know there is no straight road
No straight road in this world
Only a giant labyrinth
Of intersecting crossroads.
―Federico García Lorca
—Medusa, with thanks to Luis Berriozábal for today’s fine poetry and visuals!
A reminder that
Modesto-Stanislaus Poetry Center
presents a Spoken Word Poetry Workshop
for young people in Turlock today, 1pm.
For info about this and other
upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
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.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
firstname.lastname@example.org. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
(A cookie from the Kitchen for today):
the dry, dusty dirt,
looking for hope.
rain will come