Live Encounters Poetry & Writing April 2026
In the Morning, poems by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal.
In the Morning
In the morning gunshots
that go on and on, leaving
the living sleeping forever.
Between breakfast and lunch
not one of the dead are reborn.
There is a basket with names
of everyone in the universe.
I swear you should not believe
what I say. One day it will all
be true. Each morning I take
out the blood from a mosquito
just like it took it from me while
I slept. I wonder if I believe
my own nonsense. Believe me
as much as I want you to.
Pull up a chair. Together we
could strike the match that lights
the last cigarette we will ever
smoke. I just do not want to.
The Ritual
Is it that time again?
The candle is being lit.
Too old for multiple candles.
Too many years have flown by.
Too many wishes dashed away.
Is it that time again?
The song is sung
over chocolate marble cake
in a room with the lights turned low.
Everyone seems happy
in our small group
that still celebrate birthdays.
But they are probably not.
There are too many memories.
Too many fires still burning
that need putting out.
The cake clings to our teeth.
Much of them we have had since our youth.
My Breath
My breath evaporates.
I wonder if it goes somewhere
else or if it goes back inside
my skin or to another path
in realms no one knows about
that are alive only in worlds
with languages that make no
sense. My breath seeks oblivion.
It finds comfort in silence.
When it is cold it forms clouds.
It seeks answers but it keeps
its distance in order not to hear
the truth. My breath’s desire
is to reach the stars that are
often inaccessible to all who breathe.
© Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
Born in Mexico, Luis, lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poetry has appeared in Blue Collar Review, Kendra Steiner Editions, Live Encounters, Pygmy Forest Press, Turtle Island Poetry, and Unlikely Stories. His latest poetry book, Make the Water Laugh, was published by Rogue Wolf Press.