VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Luis Berriozabal

Mike ZoneApril 25, 2021UncategorizedAndreas Fleps, animated poets, april, april is the cruelest month, art, art of loving, artist, artistry, artists that cut faces, artwork, bleed for better days, bleeding heart poet, bleeding out, blowing your breath away, blue, brain freeze, breakthrough, breath of eternity, breathing moments, bright days, consumption, darkness, daylight, death, death by punk, death by punk: black and white, DFP, DFP Anthology#2, DFP unbound, difficult to breathe, Dillinger, don't let me die, dumpster fire, Dumpster Fire Press, flaming dumpster, For Svetlana, for twenty bucks I'll give you the best, forget the salad bar, forgive me, get in my way, hold your breath, hope against hope, hope pass away, hope registers as pain, I wrote this poem about you, indie press, international poet, international poetry, international poets, lemon, Li Kan, living every breath, living jewels, living poets, Luis Berriozabal, Mark Andrews, Mark James Andrews, Memory Twins Huff and Puff Saves Day, Mike Zone, naked in my soul, national poetry, National Poetry Month, poet, poetry, poetry event, poetry month, poets, poets will save us, poets will save us ambient night, Poets with masks on, predators moan in the darkness, Punky Dillinger, real eyes, real poetry, reality hunger, RIta Marie Recine, Roz Washington, salvation, save the day, save yourself the embarassment, season of forgiveness, Shane Allison, sleep, small press, speak out an emotion, sunlife, survive the death of meaning, Thank You Mr. President, the blue light, the lows, the lows are too low, their own voice, Visual poetry, voice, voices, Voices From the Fire, VOICES FROM THE FIRE #1, voices from the fire#2, vultures consuming, when poets talk about jazz, wind does not blow, world poetry, Xi Nan, your voice

The Lows

The lows are too low.

The blues are too blue.

These feet can’t go on.

They get in my way.

The wind does not blow.

I march to no drum.

This cold is too cold.

It freezes my brain.

I hope against hope.

Without you I lose.

This bitter lemon

life is not ideal.

The last gap is here.

I am on my own

naked in my soul.

The lows are too low.

Bright Days

Bright days will come

when this darkness

goes to sleep. I

can only hold my

breath for so long.

Bright days will come

again when the

sun makes it out

from its slumber.

I wait right here.

The moon remains

in the sky at

daylight. I know

it will not be

there for too long

like the darkness

I feel inside.

It consumes me

and all the light

I was saving.

Published by Mike Zone

Mike Zone is the former Editor in Chief of Dumpster Fire Press and managing editor of Concrete Mist Press. The author of Screaming in the End: Poems and Stories, Fuck You: A Fucking Poetry Chap, Shedding Dark Places (almost), One Hell of a Muse , as well as coauthor of The Grind and Razorville. A frequent contributor to Alien Buddha Press and Mad Swirl. His work has been featured in: A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Black Shamrock Magazine, Horror Sleaze Trash, Better Than Starbucks, Piker Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Synchronized Chaos, and Cult Culture magazine. View more posts

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