Live Encounters Poetry & Writing 16th Anniversary Volume Three
November- December 2025
The Baby, poems by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal.
The Baby
The baby cries at night,
awake with the pain of
growing; drinks mother’s
milk when hungry. So
little, the child is wrapped
in a warm blanket. Life is
just beginning. The hours
move so slow. Tough nights
follow rough nights. Soon
the child will crawl, climb,
walk, and run. The baby
will learn new things every
day and feel everything.
Childhood Dreams
I go back to
childhood dreams,
to a world
of volcanos with
chocolate lava.
I return to
the great disaster
where I scooped
up dark chocolate.
The streets where
awash with insanity
and rich chocolate.
It was much better
than the whipped
cream mountain dream.
I would carry out
chocolate from
the volcano with
my bare hands.
I would lick
my fingers clean.
I must have gained
twenty pounds
overnight.
In Your Silence
There is a poem
in your silence
I can almost hear.
I know some of
the voices I
hear again and
again. Other than
silence, I hurl
strange words
swirling in the wind.
The wind slides
across the water.
The name of the
poem has no name.
One word and another
word are plain lies.
I can almost hear a poem.
© Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
Born in Mexico, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal lives in California and works in Los Angeles. He is the author of Raw Materials (Pygmy Forest Press), Make the Water Laugh (Rogue Wolf Press), and Peering into the Sun (Poet’s Democracy). His recent poetry has been featured in Blue Collar Review, Live Encounters, Mad Swirl, Oddball Magazine, and Unlikely Stories.