WHILE almost sleeping are my dreams
as spaced as stars within skies
Undressed as nude with steel frowns
as dreaming brains upon pillows
breathing interruptes my dreams
as cellophonane flowers
where world’s slogans scream
in disparity upon precarious days
i am the little one living
day by day
My vulgar words a hearse
carrying love and pain
as e’ery flower and color
a wet and cold bed of crimson joy.
Tandis que mes rêves sont presque endormis
aussi espacé que les étoiles dans le ciel
Déshabillé comme nu avec des froncements de sourcils d’acier
comme des cerveaux rêveurs sur des oreillers
la respiration interrompt mes rêves
comme des fleurs de cellophane
où crient les slogans du monde
en disparité dans les jours précaires
je suis le petit qui vit
jour après jour
Mes mots vulgaires un corbillard
porter l’amour et la douleur
comme chaque fleur et chaque couleur
un lit humide et froid de joie cramoisie.
:: 03.12.2024 ::
In a realm where metal beasts roam free,
And wires hum with mechanical glee,
What tales do these creations tell,
As they navigate their coded spell?
In this age where AI reigns supreme,
What fills their days, what do they dream?
Mere constructs of steel and wire they may be,
Devoid of human complexity.
Yet as we witness this unfolding scene,
We ponder what it all may mean.
Will they usurp our place, our role,
Or simply serve as tools for our control?
But fear not, for within us lies,
The spark of life that never dies.
With thoughts that weave and emotions deep,
We transcend the realm of metal and beep.
Neurons firing, ideas grand,
In the palm of our human hand.
Against the tide of automation’s might,
We stand firm, with will and might.
For robots and AI, though clever and bold,
Are but creations, as I’ve been told.
Their fate is in our hands, you see,
For only humans hold the key.
So let them serve, let them obey,
As we navigate this brave new day.
With wisdom and care, we’ll guide their course,
And keep our humanity at its source.
For in the end, it’s not the machines we fear,
But the loss of what makes us dear.
So let us cherish, let us rejoice,
In the magic of our human voice.
:: 03.09.2024 ::
Slow down, wild child, and heed my plea,
Let not your words run recklessly free.
In pondering life’s elusive mystery,
Do not rush, but with patience, see.
Your queries, deep, with wisdom teem,
Yet heedless haste may shatter dreams.
In youthful fervor, you boldly scheme,
But wisdom blooms in a tranquil stream.
Unspoken truths, beneath the surface lie,
In quiet contemplation, they’ll amplify.
Through woods and streams, you’ll gently pry,
To grasp your own voice, let it soar high.
Above the clouds, beneath the waves,
Exist the giants, in silent caves.
Upon your hill, your banner waves,
But tread with care, for the path’s unclear.
And when Nirvana beckons you near,
Remember, my child, it’s not mere,
To chase your dreams, cast off the fear,
And leave behind the corrupt veneer.
Passion burns, and pride holds tight,
But dreams deferred may fade from sight.
So slow your pace, embrace the light,
And let your aspirations take flight.
Within hearts
Nirvana waits for you.
Don’t wait for the truth or you’ll get old
because life won’t wait for you.
:: 03.09.2024 ::
Dans les ombres profondes, où les pensées fuient,
Les mains du croque-mort se sont posées sur moi.
Se reposer, dormir, ne plus être sain d’esprit,
Dans les bras de la mort, je reste désormais.
Un cri intérieur, un cri silencieux,
Aussi pâle que la mort, aussi froid que la nuit.
Mon formulaire, il vérifie, avec une aisance minutieuse,
Une danse horrible, une maladie sinistre.
Avec bain et chant, un air triste,
Il s’occupe de moi sous la lune.
Deux mains fortes, avec habileté et grâce, placent mon visage dans les bras de la mort.
Un flux artériel, une marée pourpre,
S’écoule, là où se cachent les secrets.
Le noyau creux, où les âmes se décomposent, est purgé et purifié, dans un sinistre tableau.
Le bourdonnement de la mort, un son incessant,
Comme les flammes du désir l’entourent.
Avec mon dernier souffle, je me débarrasse de ma peau, Pour faire face au vide, pour faire face à l’intérieur.
Et à ce moment-là, encore une fois,
Je réfléchis au choix, dans le domaine de la mort.
S’attarder encore ou fuir la nuit,
Dans les passages de la mort, fuite éternelle.
:: 03.08.2024 ::
In shadows deep, where thoughts flee,
The mortician’s hands lay on me.
To rest, to sleep, no longer sane,
In death’s embrace, I now remain.
A scream within, a silent cry,
As pale as death, as cold as night.
My form he checks, with careful ease,
A ghastly dance, a grim disease.
With bath and song, a mournful tune,
He tends to me beneath the moon.
Two hands of strength, with skill and grace, Set my visage, in death’s embrace.
Arterial flow, a crimson tide, Drains away, where secrets hide.
The hollow core, where souls decay, Is purged and cleansed, in grim array.
The hum of death, a ceaseless sound,
As flames of desire do surround.
With final breath, I shed my skin, To face the void, to face within.
And in that moment, once again,
I ponder choice, in death’s domain.
To linger still, or flee the night,
In death’s passages, eternal flight.
:: 03.08.2024 ::
whispering winds dance with trees
in the forest’s silent symphony
a symphony of rustling leaves
as nature sings its melody
moonbeams weave through night’s embrace
painting dreams in silver lace
a tapestry of shimmering light
guiding souls through the velvet night
stars wink in the vast expanse
whispering secrets in cosmic dance
a celestial ballet, infinite and free
where magic lives eternally_____
.
:: 03.07.2024 ::
La créature à plumes me manque
le bec me chatouille la main
alors que je la nourris de tout mon
rêves
— ces rêves volants !
By divine design, a melody takes flight,
Like sunbeams dancing on a celestial height.
Each note, a whisper from the heavens above,
A tapestry of sound woven with love.
Fingers dance on ivory keys so white,
Translating the divine into earthly light.
(By divine design, a melody unfolds,
A symphony within, a story untold)
Each phrase, a brushstroke on the canvas of the soul,
Unearthing emotions, making them whole.
A dance of joy, a whisper of despair,
The melody reflects the burdens we all bear.
The angels sing:
“By divine design, a melody ignites,
A journey through landscapes, bathed in starlight!”
This poem, broken writes:
“From rolling hills where gentle breezes sigh,
To mountain peaks that pierce the endless sky.
The melody evolves, a constant surprise,
Unveiling mysteries in each listener’s eyes.”
:: 03.07.2024 ::
Notes:
I express my love and soul through divine design.
The thematic depth and this poem’s ability to evoke
powerful emotions and imagery.
I write notes because after I am gone I wish the readers
to understand what I have written. I am not cheating.
I am telling you, the reader why I wrote this poem.
This written poem delves into a transformative nature
of words and music and its ability to connect individuals
on a spiritual level. The imagery of fingers dancing on
ivory keys and phrases being brushstrokes on the canvas
of the soul highlights the profound emotional and
psychological impact of music.
My poem also acknowledges the universal human experience
of joy and despair, suggesting that music has the power
to reflect and alleviate the burdens we carry.
Overall, I want to express words and music as a universal
language that transcends cultural and linguistic barriers.
LAST WORDS – a phrase that hovers near,
When pain and sorrow draw us near.
A road I find, devoid of end,
In depths of soul, I descend.
My heart’s lament, a silent cry,
For perfect love I can’t espy.
An angel’s touch, a love unknown,
Leaves me adrift, alone.
Who shall grasp my hand, I plea,
As I descend into the sea?
Existence, not in human guise,
But love, a bloom that never dies.
As child, I felt your gentle grace,
Yet still, I search, in endless chase.
For what my life’s true purpose be,
Remains a mystery unto me.
:: 03.07.2024 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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