Five Poems by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Five Poems
by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal 

Broken Face
Your Memory Cruises
Be There
The Stumbler
A Better Place


Broken Face

I have a broken face
like Black Francis in
Surfer Rosa. The sky
fills with clouds and
twilight enters my eyes.
I open up my mouth
to catch the rain that
starts to fall this evening.
I lean against the wind
that walks with me. I am
weeping as a silver moon
breaks away from the clouds.

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​Your Memory Cruises

Your memory cruises
far and wide, from sea
to shimmering sea,
only to get stuck in slime.

How many storms has it
weathered?  It drags along
ashen and clear clouds, and
skies ablaze with sunburst.

It guides you to unknown
places. It presents your life
with pure reality and fantasy.

When that time comes when
my memory is dark space,
I hope I remember your name
and hopefully your face.


Be There

If you can be there,
if you cannot be there,
I will be there.

I do not speak for you.
I do not live in your head.
If I did, I would not live in peace.

I only control my own actions.

For years I only live one way.
There is no other way for me.

Where can I find peace?
I only find it where I do not read headlines.
When will things get better?
I am not an expert at forecasting things.

When is it safe to speak freely?
Not that I have anything to say.
But I might someday.
Even if I remain silent,
I can speak with eyes and hands,
though no one might care.

No, I might find my voice.
If you can be there,
if you cannot be there,
if there is no there “there,”
all I know is I will be there.
It can rain or it can shine.
The weather will not dissuade me.
I shall walk in the rain or sunshine.
My feet will adjust.
But I might take a break.
I will find shade or shelter
because these are things to consider.
You control your own actions
and I control my own.
A day should not go by wasted,
but sometimes that cannot be helped.
Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
West Covina, CA

​
The Stumbler

I took a spill.
I took a stumble.
Stretched out here,
my body on the floor,
and children’s laughter
ringing in my ear.
Flat on my back,
when will I be restored?
I let myself up
with my superhuman
strength that comes
from my madness.
There is good and evil
in me, light and a shade
of darkness. Pure love
and disgust lives in me.
Occasionally I fall.
I take a spill take make
the children laugh.
Their smiling faces
look at the stumbler.
It is all in good fun.
It is what it is. It is all
a little drunkenness.


A Better Place

Dreadful nights robbed me of shut eye.
I spent hours upon hours fighting demons.
My weakness was my list of faults.
I was up to no good if you really must know.

I played the loser most nights.
I was usually on my own.

I stayed away from the satanic peddler.
I was not down with the devil. My demon
was a cold drink. I wasted all my dreams.
Nighttime found me in lit dimmed bars.

I had less than healthy evenings
almost every single night. I could have
slept instead, looked my stated age,
but my eyes were open, not in a good way.
I could have slept in my room and
had my share of stupid dreams.

I wonder if I would take my choices back.
The days could have been better for me.
I enjoyed the wine a little too much.
These days I found a better place to be.

Bio: 

Born in Mexico, Luis lives in California and works in the mental health field.
His poems have appeared in Cacti Fur, Escape Into Life, Live Nude Poems, Mad Swirl, Sacred Chickens, and Unlikely Stories. He is the author of Make the Water Laugh,
(Rogue Wolf Press, 2021).

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