ONE touch One feeling
outside of Time
a song sung
a door to enter
just one sore loser
A single flash of light
One flesh One religion
to give life rights
and goddamn wrongs
no blood no stains
~~~ we all have a dream
so sweet in illusions
and that one sweet union
How we fall into that mind
of Friedrich Nietzsche
AS ONE VOICE
ONE DECISION
FREED OF GOOD
FREED OF EVIL
—>A SUPER-HUMAN
SWEET HOPE OF UNION.
:: 01.01.2022 ::
HOLES inside my life i scream words that never heal
echoes against head and solid rock is how i fall
confusing what is real and how i burn inside
A feeling so innocuous consumes me
i find myself inside another cedar box of
insecurity — crawling inside skin
fearing how i feel and how without confidence
never shows my reflection against the tears you
shed –> so denied by life and love
feeling how i react to discomfort
so close to the edge maybe i should break
the creative walls i created closing against
this will i stood by /collapsing walls
over and over like before \
everyone saying stay safe : even if you’re not
with me i am with you — how i see it /i fell
toward the floor by a bullet | it’s how i
felt promised by your angelic face and your voice
— even if you’re not with me I’m with you.
it’s the end of December and forever new years.
apart and part of how i pushed it all away/
how to give it all away is a simple thought.
It’s my last December of snow covered trees.
:: 01.01.2022 ::
FOLDED are the burnt angelic wings, my last heavenly fight where all celestial beings bled
golden blood, and afterward all wines flowed.
Today i pour thankfulness and tears into a chalice older than the rocks i sit upon.
How temporal beings unknowingly acting out the last drama above their heads.
Entrusted sacred Heart i have armed against injustice.
The stage hand chooses the curtain’s openings and closings.
Watching as i remove cosmic dust from my brow many living and nonliving things around
me perish. Enough! To manage erasure of hope I nakedly rode the wild beast’s silent
leap to perish all joy.
Hiding behind human skin, how admired and hated. One of love one of scorn. Alone, broken,
poor, destituded within a face not living but dead they do not ever see. A poet once said,
“they won’t kill you any more than if you were a corpse.’
History of incredible folly. A mind uniquely landscaped by the cosmic bang i destroy all
understanding of word and stanza, painted the color of vowels! A beauty, E quisite, I loved, O you, U nless i am a dreamer dreaming me.
:: 01.01.2022 ::
 | Damien de Soto on Could I Be |
 | EPRobles on Could I Be |
| Damien de Soto on Could I Be |
| Damien de Soto on Drowning in Fear |
 | romanticallyinclined… on A PECK OF KISSmOuth |
E.P. Robles | Poetry 