Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal,
W. Covina, CA
W. Covina, CA
GAUZE CLOUDS
Clouds seem like gauze
for skies’ wounds. Some
are like puffy shadows.
Some seem like snow
splashes. The gauze
clouds float above tall
buildings and hills. In
the black sky they veil
the stars and the moon.
The white gauze clouds
turn gray after a while.
They bend and break apart.
The wind pushes them
away. They come back
and spread across the
skies. They line up like
sheep and disperse. I
find them at the beach,
out at sea, reflected in
the waves. Late at night
the gauze clouds follow
me all the way home. Surf
sounds remain in my ears
when I hit my bed to sleep.
Clouds seem like gauze
for skies’ wounds. Some
are like puffy shadows.
Some seem like snow
splashes. The gauze
clouds float above tall
buildings and hills. In
the black sky they veil
the stars and the moon.
The white gauze clouds
turn gray after a while.
They bend and break apart.
The wind pushes them
away. They come back
and spread across the
skies. They line up like
sheep and disperse. I
find them at the beach,
out at sea, reflected in
the waves. Late at night
the gauze clouds follow
me all the way home. Surf
sounds remain in my ears
when I hit my bed to sleep.
YOUR SMILE
Your smile is as wide as the moon.
You smile to eradicate the gloom.
Oh, excuse me for speaking in rhyme.
You smile and I smile back in kind.
I’m going to walk into the river
To see if I can fish out the moon’s
Reflection, to gather lots of fish,
To see where the world ends.
Your smile will be waiting for me.
My smile will be waiting for you.
Your smile is as wide as the moon.
You smile to eradicate the gloom.
Oh, excuse me for speaking in rhyme.
You smile and I smile back in kind.
I’m going to walk into the river
To see if I can fish out the moon’s
Reflection, to gather lots of fish,
To see where the world ends.
Your smile will be waiting for me.
My smile will be waiting for you.
A LITTLE MAD
Everyone is a little mad,
some more than others.
Ordinary madmen feign
their disorders for a bed
to spend the night in.
When offered medicine
they protest with such
fervor, tears fall out of
their eyes far from gentle.
Their flesh turns red as
if scorched by the radiant
smiles of a thousand suns.
Everyone is a little mad,
some more than others.
Ordinary madmen feign
their disorders for a bed
to spend the night in.
When offered medicine
they protest with such
fervor, tears fall out of
their eyes far from gentle.
Their flesh turns red as
if scorched by the radiant
smiles of a thousand suns.
SPEAK TOO FAST
I speak too fast
and you speak last
and say goodbye.
I speak from a
place of love. No,
not yes, you say.
I give and give
and get back shade.
I give enough.
I give too much.
You give only
what you could give.
Between you and
me and me and
you, I look at
everything. I
am alive with
death all around.
I am alive.
Death speaks only
truth unspoken.
Now and then, I
stand falling down,
shrinking into
where I cannot
flee. My flesh stripped
all the way down.
I call to you,
my finer friend,
finer than me.
I like you. I
feel so down. I
need you. Are you
there? It is dark
in the flow of
words almost gone.
NEVER IMAGINE
I never imagined
I never imagined
you dead, that you
could die, that such
a force would be
confined in a grave,
where your words,
your smile, and your
laughter would not
be heard again.
I shake my head.
I thought you would
live forever. I feel
a loss I could never
imagine. If I had ten
tongues, they would
all be tied, desperate
to find the words.
I am unable to utter
a sound. Now and then
I dream of the dead
living, talking, laughing
and smiling. If this
is all our future,
well, it is, we live
and we die. Will
someone dream
about me when
I am gone?
ANGST
I fear angst
will penetrate
my dream and
leave me out in
the real world.
The door to
the dream world will
close. I will
pace in my room
all night long.
Every move
filled with angst and
despair. Each
step, one sad
reminder of
the dark space
I inhabit
in the real
world without dreams.
Who sleeps in
such of a world?
My legs fall
asleep and I
fall awake.
Today’s LittleNip:
MAKING PREDICTIONS
—Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
2067, I won’t be there.
On a street in Paris,
I won’t be there. In the
Hall of Fame, I won’t
be there. I peruse the
menu at my favorite
breakfast joint. I am
here and I will be there
next week, God willing.
___________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Luis Berriozábal for today’s fine poetry and original artwork and photos!
MAKING PREDICTIONS
—Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
2067, I won’t be there.
On a street in Paris,
I won’t be there. In the
Hall of Fame, I won’t
be there. I peruse the
menu at my favorite
breakfast joint. I am
here and I will be there
next week, God willing.
___________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Luis Berriozábal for today’s fine poetry and original artwork and photos!
" I speak from a place of love . . ."
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa
For info about
future poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
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.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
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—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
future poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
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.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
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—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
