THE curtains open to broken applause
an audience of great mystery
i cannot see their faces
nor their eyes
my Usher flees me!
And Time, the soliloquy
for Thespian lies
with each act an act of Life
and props on spot
for dramatic plots
Agh! my lines evade me!
Evade me for all i am
worthless within my House
of Theater:
The Absurd
The Humour
The Horror
The Love
of tears of joy of laughter
of sorrow of broken lines
upon my heart
upon my face
within the glass
upon the shattered floor
AND within the miles of aisles
of faceless witness
my lines flee me!
Within and without such cosmic shatter
an audience so abstract is my life
an Act (of) One.
:: 08-19-2018 ::
BELIEVE me when i never told you how gracious
kept pain can be: that i never spoke
those words; the yellow eyes of crying lies
which were \we’d group/
with pretty people on wet midnight streets
like fragrant picked fruit distinctly grouped
very cadmium so reassuringly
— whoa this is bravery
with water-rainbow tints and all the laughter of
liquor-veined beauty ~~ :
today they are raising
a monument by the sea
called YOUTH
:: 07-06-2015 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 