LUIS CUAUHTEMOC BERRIOZABAL - POEMS

​The Black Tree

I see the black tree
with the brittle
leafless branches.
An orange sky serves
as a background
with a bright moon
above and dark birds
flying this way and
that. A green patch
of grass surrounds
the tree and not a
human soul around
to ruin a thing.

Live to Write

I live to write.
I write to live.
Nothing else is
greater than that.
 
It is for love,
not for money,
why I do it.
I write for life.
 
I read and I
save my money.
I spend it on
my favorite
 
things. I write for
myself. The word
is family
or a good friend.
​

Lost in the Labyrinth

Lost in the labyrinth
I make no more moves
I sit and wait for time
to take me away
I will be here until
I am found in time or
a little too late
The elements will
do what they do
to my body and
my soul will find its way ​

Write the Truth 
 
After Gyula Illyes

Don’t let it be.
Write your poetry.
Write the truth.
 
Don’t lie or hide.
Let it all out.
Take a stand.
 
Go on and write
without constraint.
Stay a poet.
 
The word is air.
Stop choking, breathe.
Open your mind.
 
What else is
there, but the word?
Write your poetry.
 
Make it sing.
Tell the truth.
Write at will.
 ​

Fear in Strangers Eyes

I see the fear
in strangers eyes
when I go up
to pay for food
at the market.
Some are friendly
and some are less
so. I get it.
We are all in
this together
and we all need
to stay apart.
 
 
FIRST PUBLISHED IN Alien Buddha Press.