LUDWIG
The Unheard Symphony
The Silence played so loud it broke
The air within the Room
A Fugue unwoven Measureless
A Chord of Soundless Doom
The Fingers of the Tempest stirred
The Notes refused to bow
Yet in the hush an Echo rang
Beyond the Mortal brow
The Violin was never struck
The Keys denied their plea
And yet a Symphony arose
Conducted wordlessly
A God unseen His Hands became
The Whisper in the Air
And in that Soundless Thundering
The Deaf Composer Heard.
:: 01.31.2025 ::
Continue readingI climbed beneath their tempest guise,
Not cruel—but wondrous, wild—
Their tongues, like serpents, wove the skies,
And bade me be beguiled.
Their muses danced in frenzied streams,
A chaos, deep, divine—
I felt them tear my tethered dreams,
To fashion them as mine.
They stripped me to a vital beat,
No thought, no flesh remained—
But pulses rising, stark and fleet,
By holy torrents chained.
Her voice—a middle path untold—
Did whisper through my bone,
A force that breaks, yet gently molds,
And claims my craft her own.
No mercy in her artful fire,
Yet none would I beseech—
For every line she might inspire
Lies just beyond my reach.
O gods who sing and chaos bring,
Your wild winds are my home—
A vessel frail, I learn to cling,
To storms that bid me roam.
:: 01.15.2025 ::
Your smile an Arc of Mystery!
Your eyes a Silver Gleam
Your form a Sculptor’s Whisper
Your hands a Midnight Dream.
Your feet a Sacred Compass
To Worlds I’ve never known
Your grace my fleeting Fetish
A Heaven, all my own.
Oh, let me gaze Eternally!
On features etched in Light
For Love, a fleeting Shadow,
Becomes the Endless Night.
Invincible.
:: 01.13.2025 ::
The Vastness, Stars!
To witness the vastness, stars!
Above my chin, a miracle bars—
The skies! the skies!
The burning light! What bright boroughs,
Circle-cities spun in furrows,
Where fire flies!
How bent my knee with moss now—
Dim woods, where elves delve, bow!
A whitebeam blares!
The torrential winds and rains—
Unable to cover fire’s refrains—
The grey lawn glares!
Cold the gold, where quickgold lies,
Wind-beat whitebeam! Airy abeles rise!
Set flare and sing!
Flake-doves, afloat, at a farmyard scare—
Flurry! Fury! Heaven’s breath lays bare—
Ah well! a prize this thing!
O lightnings leap! O quicksilver streak!
Vault the vault! Heaven’s bright beak,
Peck forth day’s bright bread!
Or whisper soft in a shadow-wind glen,
The hawthorn thrills, its heart unpenned,
Each branch breaks red!
Oh, all! This glory! All is a gaze —
God’s purchase pure, in love’s deep blaze,
Writ on the world’s face.
:: 01.09.2025 ::
Her nails bloom black as moons on trembling stems,
Whispering secrets to the midnight’s hems.
Anxiety, a serpent made of light,
Coils through the cracks of fractured night.
The Phoenix, laughing, eats itself anew,
Its ashes drift as stars in seas of blue.
No urn contains the echoes of its cries;
They bloom as cities in forgotten skies.
Upon the shelves, the objects start to hum—
A hollow ptyx becomes a beating drum.
The Master dives into the Styx’s glow,
To barter with the river’s undertow.
Through broken panes, the northern lights take root,
Growing unicorns of fire and fruit.
Their breath, a snowstorm made of molten clocks,
Consumes the void with gilded paradox.
The glass dissolves; the room becomes a field,
Where time unravels and the stars are sealed.
She floats, a mirror melting into air,
Her edges bleed with colors sharp and rare.
A septet of her faces sings in waves,
Their voices shape the rhythms of her graves.
Yet every note unfurls a phantom wing—
A song that only burning angels sing.
Oh, fleeting ghost of dreams and shadowed hue,
Your face dissolves into a different you.
For here, where time and space collapse in kind,
The soul unthreads the labyrinth of mind.
:: 12.28.2024 ::
(a universe) unfolds
between your( hands)
where Time unravels
in.the /quiet/ pulse
ofstars:are::born dying
(again)
and(i)am only a
fragment of whispered(trees)
drowning beneath the
thousandmouthed sky
(and clouds so soft
they
shatter)
oh,you.
are( the fierce )blue
hum of every
unsayable silence,
every:moment:
that
breathes—
into(i)tiny—a spiraling/word\
(lost
but.alive)
what is Light?
(ifnot.your)
gaze breaking
infinite( into trembling)—
earth cracks open,
an ocean of(you
rushing)
(a kiss
blooms where no lips have touched).
:: 12.21.2024 ::
Mor
tals—
Ascen
d into Their Each—
A Stagg
ering Plun
ge—be
gun—
Dizzied Or
bits—
Swu
ng Wide by Force
s—
Un
seen—
A Trap
eze of Being—
Careening through Somersaults—
A Gush of Elsewhere—
Opened—
Him—Her—Al
l—
:: 12.21.2024 ::
Notes:
So, as the poet of these verses I explain.
Fragmentation as a Tool of Disruption.
The deliberate breaking of words—”Mor/tals,” “Ascen/d,” “Stagg/ering”—disorients the reader, forcing them to engage with each syllable as a unique unit of meaning. This mirrors the fragmented and often chaotic nature of existence. The form itself becomes a metaphor for the poem’s themes: ascent, disarray, and reconstruction.
The deliberate breaking of words—”Mor/tals,” “Ascen/d,” “Stagg/ering”—disorients the reader, forcing them to engage with each syllable as a unique unit of meaning. This mirrors the fragmented and often chaotic nature of existence. The form itself becomes a metaphor for the poem’s themes: ascent, disarray, and reconstruction.
Last thoughts:
This poem is an experiment in form, language, and thought, one that dares to fragment the familiar in order to reveal the sublime. It challenges the reader to navigate its dizzying orbits and, in doing so, find their own meaning within its fractured brilliance. Like the “Brilliant Sun” it evokes, it radiates energy and light, illuminating the beauty and complexity of human existence.
Brilliant Sun’s Lithium feels like a poem written at the intersection of time and space—where mortals touch the eternal.
Speak, The Trees
This park—so small—a world confined,
Its silence—like a thought enshrined.
Where others—roam in wider air,
Alone—I linger—everywhere.
The trees—they stoop—a whisper shy,
The paths—like veins—beneath the sky.
And yet—the hush—a greater hymn,
A space immense—though seeming dim.
:: 12.21.2024 ::
Continue readingBy morning’s light, my heart did fall,
Escaping from a chest now hollow, small.
At noon, a songbird dared to sing,
“Too soon,” it whispered on fleeting wing.
By dusk, the moon hung pale and slight,
Perched above the fading light.
It was then I knew: love was done,
Its flame extinguished, its battle won.
Kisses faded, skin grew frail,
Eyes shed tears in a final wail.
One drop remained—a token of pain,
A shard of love’s enduring chain.
For love is thicker than memory’s thread,
Yet thinner than the words unsaid.
It roars louder than the ocean’s might,
And falters in the quiet night.
What treasure lies in love’s embrace,
If alive, a triumph, a sacred grace.
But if lost, oh, how it forgives,
And still, in shadows, softly lives.
The sunlit skies, they scream and cry,
Proclaiming: true love never dies.
:: eprobles ::
Oh, let the timeless sands of fate,
Beneath my feet, reverberate.
A pathway carved through cosmic tide,
To realms where dreams and shadows bide.
The sun bows low, the stars ignite,
An endless tapestry of night.
Through deserts vast and mountains high,
I ride the whispers of the sky.
My spirit bends, yet does not break,
The earth and heavens I forsake.
In search of truths that have no name,
I dance amidst the sacred flame.
Beneath the crimson, burning sea,
A voice calls out, it speaks to me:
“Beyond the veils of space and time,
The songs of ancient worlds still chime.”
And as the rhythm stirs my soul,
I feel the fragments become whole.
The past, the now, the yet-to-be,
Converge in one infinity.
Through shifting winds and waves of gold,
A story vast, yet still untold.
I am the seeker, bound yet free,
The echo of eternity.
:: 12.18.2024 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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