Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Lost in the Dream

It weighs on me,

your vanished smile,

at twilight in

the intimate hours,

I let the day run its course.

Farther away,

my tongue freezes.

Autumn comes

along and I sleep.  I am a


in my dream.  Loose words

and secrets spill from my tongue.

I am lost in the dream

or the nightmare,

where disorder

echoes throughout the

darkness of my mind.

I am born into a death,

where birds fly

into the sun

and die as well.

My voice does not

make any sense

and I forget simple words

like stars and windows.

I am born into life

dreaming of death, and

tasting something bitter

with my frozen tongue.

I take flight towards the sun,

where the birds of my dream

die without


They just die

in my dreams.

I hear murmurs.

Maybe I should fly too.

Fast asleep

I am always flying.

Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal © 2009

I Will Not Take Tylenol

I will only take Tylenol.

However, my head would have

to feel like if it was coming

clear off for me to take it.

I will not take Haldol or

any other pharmaceutical

poison that is offered to me.

I don’t care if it is free.

I will not take showers in here

because I know the showerheads

have been tainted with powder or

liquid psychiatric drugs.

I will not shave my beard or take

my watch off.  My beard is my

strength.  I always keep my watch on

to keep those who hold me on

notice.  I will remind them of

the illegality of their

actions upon me, a sane man

accused of paranoid thinking.

I am not a threat to anyone

or myself.  I will only take

Tylenol.  Do not insist on

giving me anything else.

Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal © 2009