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.
IF i shall never hear a note again
what of my vision — a forest calls
but no sound/ i, the failure, of
all that is nature and of words.
so must my mouth SCREAM
but my head hears not [even the
blacksmith striking his anvil]
so i am the deaf poet
that shall never hear my own words\
locked inside a cedar box for all
seasons.
DID you perchance
upon the lance
of brilliant genius
touch the heart
of one keyboardist?
Für Elise~
(Herr Beethoven!)
That every student
across the world
who learns the keys
plays your heart
and He? Toward the
floorboards upon
his knees knowing
beauty and nature
are separated by
composure and ethics
one piece of
famous score!
Applause for
love and soul!
seethe creep — my fear!
(less) gimp worm
loss(ness –>) brute
dance leg goat boar
(ness) melt soul || mind ||
how-which lower life
none mind(less) whine
In that asylum called life!
dead life abhor lovers
a frolic acid bath mind!
I dug a hole in time today
within this vast room
an ancient music I played
of a composer distant past
his hand now dry and cold
has touched my heart still
I TASTED a feeling of wonderment
more than once within a span of life
greatness prevailed human depravity
to hear Beethoven –
Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125
I tasted a feeling of wonderment
more than once within a span of life
greatness prevailed human ignorance
to understand Einstein –
E-MC2 is not small fare of ingenuity
I tasted a feeling of profound shame
more than once within a span of life
to read of tyranny –
Hitler, Mussolini, Mao, and Pol Pot
Wonderment is a bitter-sweet taste
it holds no-bar the color of bearer
wept we should and must we be in awe
humanity so beautiful yet so horrific!
E.P. Robles | Poetry 