By Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
ONE HUNDRED AND FOUR YEARS
After Antonia Pozzi
One hundred and four years ago you were
composing your words like a violinist was
composing musical sounds. Your words are
alive still, quivering with beauty, delirium,
and the sobs of time, as the violin strings
reach a crescendo of the loudest order.
I see your words on the page bleeding. I
feel the sharp sea breeze as if I was out
at shore. I look up at the cluster of stars,
which are your words, soft and compact
one moment, and loud and exploding
the next. Your instrument cries out loud
as if death is on your trail. You lived only
for twenty-six years. Yet, you are still alive
with these words I am reading now. Perhaps
in a hundred and four years I should be
so lucky, for someone to find mine.
WHO MOVES TIME
Who or what moves
time like the sky
moves clouds? We
cannot move time
as it inhales and
exhales its evil.
Time has no heart
or arms to lift
our burdens. Mute as
a field of weeds,
time is hard to gauge.
Like air it will not
stay in one place.
It follows its own
rules -- slow when
you are rushed, fast
when you need it
to last longer.
THIS HOUSE
This house I live in
is made of air.
If you look up at
any time of day
you will see stars,
the moon, the sun,
and clouds. It is
all windows all
around and no
walls. If you look
down, there is grass,
dirt, and cement.
I do not need doors,
plumbing, or a stove.
I keep it real
simple with a soft
pillow and thick
blankets. People
give me stuff like
food and water, a
dollar or enough
change for a hot
meal. I do not pay
rent or utility bills.
I move a lot, not
always willingly.
You know the grass
could be greener,
but I settle for
what I can get.
NOTHING BUT EMPTINESS
I left nothing
but emptiness
and useless
meanderings
for you to digest,
sparse ideas
and drunken
diatribes to
moist your
appetite.
There is more
of nothingness
I could offer,
but I do not
have the heart
to do that.
Born in Mexico, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles, CA.His poetry has been published by Blue Collar Review, Borderless Journal, Escape Into Life, Kendra Steiner Editions, Mad Swirl, SETU, and Unlikely Stories.
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL
Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles
Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International
Borderless 