As I wandered down impassive rivers’ bends,
No longer guided by haulers’ friends,
Yelping redskins made their aims,
Nailing haulers to colored stakes, their gains.
Indifferent to crews, Flemish wheat or English bales,
When the uproar ceased, I set sails,
Rivers let me roam, free and wild,
To chase the winds like a wayward child.
Into tides furious, as wild as winter’s cry,
More heedless than children’s lullabies,
I ran, unbound by peninsulas’ sway,
Triumph echoed in my runaway.
Oh, yes, there she goes and I ate sunshine
it’s mine
The storm blessed my escape’s pursuit,
Lighter than air, I danced, resolute,
Upon eternal rollers, where victims mourn,
Ten nights, under lighthouses, forlorn.
Sweeter than apples to children’s taste,
Green water cleansed me, erased the trace,
Of blue wine’s stain and vomit’s stench,
Setting me adrift, a fleeing wench.
From then, I bathed in the Sea’s sweet song,
Infused with stars, where I belong,
Devouring azure verses, where, serene,
A drowned figure sinks, in the scene.
Dyeing the blue, delirium’s hue,
Under daylight’s streak, rhythms anew,
Stronger than wine, vaster than dreams,
Love’s redness ferments, in the streams.
I’ve known skies bursting, lightning’s glare,
Waterspouts swirling, currents’ dare,
I’ve seen evening’s fall, and dawn’s ascent,
And glimpsed what man thought, in wonderment.
The low sun, with mystic dread,
Lights waves, actors in dramas bred,
I’ve dreamed of green nights, kissed by snow,
A kiss rising slowly, love’s sweet glow.
I followed the swell, with wild desire,
Through turbulent waters, never to tire,
Dreaming not of Mary’s calm,
But of freedom’s beckoning palm.
Against unbelievable Floridas, I’ve strived,
With flowers mixed, where panthers hide,
Rainbows stretched, under the sea’s hue,
Green herds graze, where dreams pursue.
I’ve seen swamps fermenting, Leviathan’s tomb,
Avalanches in calm, impending doom,
Distances cascading, toward the abyss,
Glaciers, suns, waves’ nacreous kiss.
Hideous strands, at gulfs’ dark end,
Serpents fall, from trees they bend,
I wished to show children, sunfish bright,
Goldfish, singing, in the deep’s light.
At times, a martyr, weary, I’ve bowed,
Sea’s sobs my only shroud,
Dark flowers with yellow suckers, my bane,
As I kneel, fleeing again.
An island, tossed, amidst quarrels’ rage,
Birds with eyes, their droppings engage,
Sailing on, through ropes’ embrace,
Drowned men sinking, without grace.
Now lost in caves’ foliage, I’m tossed,
By storms into skies, love’s cost,
Water-drunk, seeking no rescue’s hand,
Freedom’s call, the sea’s command.
Free, smoking, topped with violet dreams,
Piercing the sky, where freedom gleams,
Bearing jam for poets, lichens bright,
Running wild, ‘neath stars’ soft light.
Trembling, hearing Behemoths’ roar,
Maelstroms thick, forevermore,
Eternal spinner, in blue’s expanse,
Missing Europe’s ancient dance.
Sidereal archipelagos, islands afar,
Skies delirious, where dreams spar,
In bottomless nights, do you roam,
O future home, beyond the foam?
But truly, I’ve wept too much, dawns mourn,
Moon’s terror, every sun’s scorn,
Acrid love swells me, torpor’s reign,
O let my keel burst, let me flee again.
If I desire Europe’s water, it’s the black,
Cold puddle, sweet twilight’s track,
Where a child, full of sadness, releases,
A boat, fragile, amidst life’s creases.
No longer can I, in languor’s hold,
Follow cotton boats, nor flags unfold,
Nor swim beneath prison ships’ watchful eyes,
Into the sea’s embrace, my freedom flies.
E.P. Robles | Poetry 