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Poems – Sleepless Again and Good Days by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal  May 10, 2022

Posted by vscorpiozine in Los Angeles poets, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, New Poets.
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Sleepless Again

Sleepless again,
awake at the witching hour,
an everyday thing,
no  wonder I seem so tired.
I read and watch tv
like I have all the time in the world.
My thoughts are all scrambled.
Who knows when I will fall asleep.

I heard the birds
and their late night songs.
Nature is beautiful.
I sit down to write.
Gathering words,
I throw them against the wall.

Night is when I write
the small poems.
I go to outer space spaces.
I cut things short.

Good Days

Good days stray.
Bad days stay.
One day things 
will balance.

Before then,
them bad days
know they are
killing it.

know they arekilling it.

That gets me
down. It hurts.
Help does not
seem to come.

Waterfall tears.
Arms hanging.
At times these
moments stray.

Today is
a good day.
Said as much
yesterday.

Give it time.
You know well
something else
is coming.

Do not fret.
It happens.
It is life
testing you.

Remain strong
in your mind
and hope for
the good days.

BIO:
Luis lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poems have appeared in Escape Into Life, Live Nude Poems, Mad Swirl, Unlikely Stories, and Venus in Scorpio Poetry E-Zine.

Poem by Jade Blackmore – The Old Poets December 28, 2020

Posted by vscorpiozine in Los Angeles poets, poems, poetry, Uncategorized.
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They all gathered in a basement near the beach. Sunlight covered by brick and photocopies, the pesky blonde surfers sent packing, the scourge of suburbia long gone.    

The reluctant idol in western jeans ducks into his car, but he can’t escape. The parkig lot fence won’t shield him from the aftermath of his chosen profession. Every autograph paves a piece of soul flattened until he can escape incognito to another land . 

Neon-haired old woman
Swathed in black
Yells across the room
Even louder than she did in her heyday,
Oblivious to the background bro calling her an old hag.
Her former partner-in-crime ostracized
For having the wrong opinion.

The woman who raises chickens and grows corn in her back yard
Discusses Bukowski with a slouching, bespectacled poetry professor.
In a previous life he was a long-haired bass player, dropping acid and sharing girls in Golden Gate Park.

The wine disappears from red Solo cups as conversations intensify.
The words of fallen comrades echo in front of scratchy 8 millimeter films.
Self-made local legends, revealed to a select few.
Only those who crack the code understand.
Transference and time fade the intent,
but the spirit remains.

Poems by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal- Lightning Flash and No Need (The King of the Streets) April 29, 2020

Posted by vscorpiozine in chapbooks, Los Angeles, Los Angeles poets, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, Uncategorized.
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luis_drawing

Drawing by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

LIGHTNING FLASH

I see you in people I knew,
like a flash of lightning,
come and gone. I know you
are your own person, but
as frame of reference it is
not uncommon to make
comparisons. You have a
look in your face when I talk
and I can sense disappointment.
I know it will soon be over.
I have gone through this before.
There are no hard feelings.
I am accustomed to lightning
and how it shines and disappears.

NO NEED (THE KING OF THE STREETS)

As long as I have
a heartbeat
I will not ever
feel poor. At
night I make a home
in a park.
Food is all around.
I take from
the kind hearted.
Sometimes it’s
just around, on
trees, in trash
bins, almost fresh.
For movies
I watch the stars,
the people,
or the tall trees.
For music
I hear the birds,
crickets, and
cars zooming past.
For books I
have no need. I
read the clouds,
lips, newspapers
left behind.
I still dream. When
I become so
absorbed in
my dreams, I find
just enough
to get me through
the day. I
do not feel poor.
I am the
king of the streets.
There is no
need for a crown
or golden
robe. I keep still
when I feel
tired. If it rains,
I find a
bridge for shelter.
Do not feel
sad about me

Read a review of Luis’ chapbook Before and Well After Midnight, at Clockwise Cat.