LUIS CUAUHTEMOC BERRIOZABAL - POEMS

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, born in Mexico, lives in Southern California, and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His first book of poems, Raw Materials, was published by Pygmy Forest Press. His other poetry books, broadsides, and chapbooks, have been published by Alternating Current Press, Deadbeat Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, New American Imagist, New Polish Beat, Poet's Democracy, and Ten Pages Press (e-book).

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​Walker

​Walker, leave your footprints,
but don’t kick the plants.
Go on your way, but don’t
trample on the flowers.
Walk with purpose, but
don’t kick the animals.
Keep on walking away if
someone wants to fight.
Walk for health; walk to live
another day in peace.

​Daylight

​My words are used like
daylight is used. Doubt
is whispered and thrown
over my shoulder. Hope
is in my words, again and
again.  Nothingness is
like sorrow, bereft of joy.
I polish the sun with
my words so daylight
could blind the anger I
feel.  It gets old to be
angry.  I choose daylight.
My words are used like
daylight when used properly.

​Poison Remains

I live my life without you.
The poison remains in my blood.
I feel like an old blind dog.
I am through with desires.
 
I feel like the waste that remains.
I think of the tombs I want to inhabit.
I think of the soil that will cover me.
The poison remains in my blood.
 
I have no fire left in me.
Even death doesn't want me.
I feel like the waste that remains.
 
I am lost and don’t want to be found.
I feel my heart has frozen through.
I think of the soil that will cover me.
 
​

​The Moving Tree

​I saw the tree move.
Its roots were like
feet walking and
running, shaking
the leaves off its
branches.  I saw it
jump and skip like
a child having fun.
Its heavy trunk was
limber and flexible.
The birds tried to
stay in their nests,
but they were tossed
around and had to
fly to keep pace
with the tree.  I had
to blink once and
then twice to
believe my own eyes.

​Out of Service

​One day you throw money away.
The next day you eat like a bird.
You drink wine one day and tap
water the other day. You live
like a king and then like a pauper.
Money slides through your hands
like water and oil. You burn through 
the little or the lot you have until
you do not have anymore. That
government check will one day
run out. You fought a war and lost
your mind. You are a hundred
percent connected, but your
mind and thoughts are totally
disconnected, out of order, out of
service like an old phone number.