Poetry Drawer: Grow the Fruit: Keep Your Balance: Hammer Nail and Wood by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Grow the Fruit

Some grew the fruit,
some paint it.
Some grew the fruit.
Some eat it.

Hard at work with
the harsh sun
at their back, the
workers toil.

The painter at
his workplace
or her workplace,
paints away.

The hungry with
the money
to afford it,
enjoy it.

The going gets
tough and the
worker applies
his and her

skill to make the
fruit grow and
gathers it for

The painter takes
a brush to
the canvas and
makes it live,

the fruit from the
fields, from the
vine; anoints it
with colour.

The consumer
buys it at
the price that he
or she can

afford. The fruit
is sweet and
and filling.

Poetry is
like fruit. It
can rot on the
page or be

the nourishment
the soul needs.
It satisfies
and provides.

Keep Your Balance

You try to keep your balance
as you are faltering
between vertigo and confusion
as a shower of light
washes out your eyes. The day
becomes night, you remain
clouded in your mind. You see
no clarity in the darkness
that rests in your soul. You seek
out the sun and the sweetness
of fruit. You keep your balance
tethering on the head of a pin.
You pray the year brings good
luck. You are daydreaming. You
are coming out of the abyss.
You believe the fortune cookie
and the wise words it chose just
for you. You are the river. You are
the chosen one. You are like the
tree with the sweetest fruit.

Hammer, Nail, and Wood

While we sleep
the hammer is at play,
nail and wood,
the hammering sounds,
a house is being built.

Early in
the morning, the sun is
still asleep,
the hammer does what
hammers do, pounds away.

Wooden and
metal handle, steelhead,
hammer, nail,
and wood. Walls, windows, doors
and fences being built.

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