Palace of Light / Fierce Wind by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal

Palace of Light

It appears
naked,
moonlight,
round and white,
like milk, like water,
like liquor infused,
not blinding like the sun.
It conjures ghosts 
at midnight 

on the first day
and seventh day
in April. Its body,
a palace of light.
It lives in
the sky
in trembling glow.

Fierce Wind

The fierce wind
sparked my memory

of the night 
I dreamt you left me.

The fierce wind
took all the flowers

away and
the fragile birds were

grounded. Their

wings were not so strong.

The fierce wind
took away the smile

from my face.
I flew away to

the center

of the hurricane.

I dreamt I

died inside of me.

Born in Mexico, Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal lives in California and works in Los Angeles, His poetry has appeared in Blue Collar Review, Kendra Steiner Editions, Mad Swirl, Poppy Road Review, and Unlikely Stories. His latest book, Make the Water Laugh, was published by Rogue Wolf Press.

Whispers and Secrets / Mid-February by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Whispers and Secrets

Whispers and secrets
fuel the moon’s avarice.
It is never satiated as
it inhales all it hears.

Its light is fixated on us,
a witness to all we say
and do. The only thing
it cannot do is read our

minds, which is why we
should not blurt out what
we are thinking. Sleep
talkers have no remedy.
Through open windows the
moonlight inhales each word.





Mid-February

In mid-February
the streets near the Flower Market
in Downtown Los Ángeles
are heavy with traffic.
What is normally a minute drive
from Maple to 9th Street
turns into the longest ten minutes
you have ever driven.

You think of buying flowers
for the woman who keeps your
heart burning for a love out of reach,
but there is nowhere to park
as your anxiety heightens.
Ten minutes turns into twenty
and still there is nowhere to park.
Your lunch break is nearly over.
So you make plans on coming out
here the next day before the sun
is out and most of the world is asleep

including the woman you love.

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal lives in California and works in Los Angeles. His poetry and art has appeared in Blue Collar Review, Escape Into Life, Four Feathers Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, and Unlikely Stories. His most recent poetry book, Make the Water Laugh, was published by Rogue Wolf Press.

Garden Grave / The First Time I Come to My Senses by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal

Garden Grave

Eternity is a grave in the garden

where plants grow and die like thoughts.

The moon above the earth is a quiet 

witness for our secrets shining its light.

Get on your knees and dig out the dirt.

In the morning there is another witness 

burning bright. The trees will provide

solace for your life with its shade.

There in the garden a grave awaits.

Some prefer the sea, stormy or calm,

with a garden grave underneath.

The First Time I Come to My Senses 

How old I have grown on this job

that has buried all my dreams.

Green pastures are far from here.

This place grinds up the soul.

I have reached the pinnacle of

my growth. The climb was far

from fun. I desire only to leave

the first time I come to my senses.

Flowers wilt inside this room.

Birds do not sing inside these walls.

I stand in the shadows and I am

surrounded by a forest of doubt.

Great angels would not survive a

day here. I am through with this

place that grinds up the soul. I

have grown too old. We all have.

Born in Mexico, Luis lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poems have appeared in print and online in Black Poppy Review, Blue Collar Review, Escape Into Life, Kendra Steiner Editions, and Nerve Cowboy.

The Thin Branch by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal

I keep an eye

on the thin branch.

The bird stands on

it. Go away.

Its ear hears me.

The bird flies off

like an arrow.

Unexpected,

I snip at it.

The bird snips back.

The roses blush.

The thin branch bends

as the bird comes

back to stand on

it and break it.

Born in Mexico, Luis lives in California and works in Los Angeles. His latest poetry book, Make the Water Laugh, was published by Rogue Wolf Press. His poetry has appeared in Blue Collar Review, Kendra Steiner Editions, Mad Swirl, Unlikely Stories, and Venus in Scorpio Poetry E-Zine.

Come Out / Breaking Bread by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Come Out 

Wild flower spread for me.

Winged angel sing.

Naked muse come out.

Black swan dance with me.

Summer is ending

full of love’s sorrow.

Weigh my suffering

in the pain in the wound in my heart.

Mine is the light.

The animals take and take.

The skylark sings

of the roads I must travel.

Breaking Bread 

Breaking bread

with a bird

in a dream,

the bird takes

his piece and

pecks at it.

Soon it is

in flight and

it sings out.

My piece of

bread is gone

in one bite.

I do not

sing.  I fly

in this dream.

Luis, born in Mexico, lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. Pygmy Forest Press published his book, Raw Materials.  Other books and chapbooks have been published by Alternating Current Press, Deadbeat Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, New Polish Beat, Poet’s Democracy, and Ten Pages Press.