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i found two feet walking along a shoreline called Mississippi River and there was not a breeze or sound: the world was frozen. Blue ice.
So i began my journey there.
found colors, notes and feelings,
a catfish caught on a line; i saw
the water and skies moving gently
across my soul; this i did and i
had no feelings — it was spectacular
to view. Caught out of time and wonder
-ing what love could ever be as this.
i am not wishing. I am not granting.
I am not human. I am not anything you
can comprehend. I am alone.
Alone.
No audience needed. I write for myself.
:: 07.27.2020 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
NEUROSURGICAL EVENT
manipulate my brain damage my connection
i’m your lonely patient like burning liars in
a blanket of ash
so perturbed by my mind you remove
parts of my heart-brain and the voices stop
and i’m so comforted by my loss, of mind;
and i’m so relieved
by the loss of my life;
it creates a circular lesion within my brain
:: — 08-05-2016 — Rev: 11-01-2016 ::
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