Literary Yard

Search for meaning

‘Perhaps’ and other poems by Lazaro Gutierrez

By: Lazaro Gutierrez

Photo by Adrian Swancar on Unsplash


for my one true love,
she bought me roses
—red velvet wine,
like the ones that I buy her
every valentine’s.
the day that I die
i hope i’m reborn,
perhaps not in flesh
perhaps not in bone

perhaps i’ll be the wind
that caresses your hair
on a hot summer day
when you’re too drunk to care

perhaps i’ll be the bird
that sits on the tree
that you passed when you walked
by where we used to meet

perhaps i’ll be the stranger
that passes you by
rushing to work
quickly fixing his tie

perhaps i’ll be the bug
that gets crushed by your feet
or the warmth of the night
wrapped inside your white sheets

perhaps, perhaps
perhaps, i will be
the sugar that sweetens
your passion fruit tea

but, wherever i go
wherever death takes me
i hope that it sinks
my soul in your sea

to the flesh that i worship
to the skin that i kiss
every night
before my mind
wanders off into bliss

and i hope when i die
i’m a part of your life
because out of the darkness
my love
will survive.



plastered high on the screen
begging to sell you
life evergreen

198 and slaves cannot wait
yet it’s already written
in the shadow
of fate

198 foreheads
that secrete
yet the sweat of their labor
tastes bitter not sweet

but i am no fool
and i will not fall
for the chance of a lifetime
to win it all

198 and i’m kicking rocks
barely making it
with the little i have
and it may seem like nothing
yes, i know—not a lot
but this fire inside me
is all that i got
and i’m singin’:

i got love and compassion
i got passion and joy
i got fire and strength
i got music and soy
i got books, i got dreams
and a night full of stars
i got fears and regrets
and an old beat up car

i got debt, i got loans
and a college degree
i got time left to spend
and many places to be

i got words and a mouth
that sometimes gets too loud
and my feet stomp with anger
on the face of the ground
and although I’m not rich
my head’s never bowed

and i got her and him
the loves of my life
though i don’t have the money
to make her my wife
but i have many gifts
that franks cannot buy
and the swipe of my pen
is worth more than a lie

and that 198
up ahead on the road
with it’s powerful colors
and it’s hidden white codes
it can promise a fortune
it can promise the world
it can fix all my problems
—but it won’t steal my soul.


gabe’s poem

bubbles burst
blue and pink,
violet and lime,
green and aquamarine,
—he stares in delight

i’ve seen them change
your little fingers,
for you’re growing
through the days,
leaving memories to linger
of the little boy i’ve raised

and my child
he’s got wonder,
written all over his eyes,
and a mind that often ponders
into the face of the sky

my boy has a silly smile,
and bouncing curls that go wild,
rosy cheeks and teeth like pearls,
happy shrieks and curious twirls

he’s got fake words
and funny sounds,
and feet that stomp
hard on the ground

and i’ll miss the days
of running after you,
and i’ll smile in thought,
and when thinking of
how fast you grew,
my throat will tangle
in a knot

and if i could
you know i’d stay
but in earth’s time
there’ll come my day

but don’t be sad
my wonder boy
for life is rich
in boundless joy

for you’ll grow old
and live your life,
and i will watch
my boy defy,
and spread your wings
over the thunder
fly my boy,
my boy,
—my wonder.

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