AND if we dream.
Quietly as though
the babbling brook
demands so.
AND there by the trees
a hobble-knobble
moon goes telling
sweet thoughts.
WITH pine in air
and stiff nipples
expectations like dreams
touching goals.
There are no impossibilities
just fears and blocked roads
by brain we the insane
mostly never overcome.
:: 09-30-2017 ::
III
A very busy mind full of broken
shaped happy forgottens
two eyes to see A third
to know
This hand and that tongue
this foot and that lovely
word:
CYNOSURE
IT HAS those many points and
like matrix math it flips/
flops over all other points/
like my thinkingMAYBE
might be a bruise upon
deceptive causes
And those goddamn questions!
poking a calm bed of ants
prickly scalp scratching
ideas LIKE those we all
tuck inside our lower basements
until the snow comes
My fire burns very brightly
to incinerate the weakest won!
:: 09- 30-2017 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 