WINTER her final Spring
in bed ridden fashion
such life fiercely battled
Industriousness bought
through pain and tears
Through force of life
and broad strokes of art
travels she made
upon creative youth
And Death spoke, assuredly
but crept in delicate fear
and begged a pardon
— a release of guilt
Her flower withered…
but not from existence
a pollination across hills
to the fields of other-there
:: 01-29-2014 ::
SUCH a surprise
that time brings
a larger span
of knowing
by existing
and living
That life at youth
— bitter sweet
but upon the bed
of death
— sweetly bitter
:: 01-29-2014 ::
MANY secrets hide away
which man nor woman see
Plainly before us they lay
But the trained eye knows
only that which it sees
:: 01-29-2014 ::
“AND what of me?” asked fear.
“I have no thing that hugs nor kisses or desires me…”
Compassion stared then gently replied.
“But you are not real therefore of no concern.
When you realize this then shall you be set free.”
:: 01-29-2014 ::
IF the world be held
by a thread of despair
let our love repair
Such state of disrepair
reeks injustice for life
and conjures illness
Where is the outrage
against such injustice
that derange dictate
My asylum is well
but the madness runs
and the keys it holds
My world such beauty
nature states refinement
In the end love repairs
:: 01-28-2014 ::
AND if the night could scream
who would hear such a thing
the burrowing night creature
maybe a mockingbird or two
It is not a practical thought
but one of abstract feeling
I know the sound of anguish
to hear such sound each night
— upon my window pane
:: 01-28-2014 ::
WHAT am I
if not
what I dreamed
Who dissuade
my imperial dream
that I am not me
What power
dissolves me
I say nothing
for I am more
— a soul to reckon
:: 01-27-2014 ::
WHAT was weak
snapped into piece
I sadly held onto
my broken soul…
My angel spoke
and said it so…
what is broken
becomes the steel
:: 01-27-2014 ::
I DIED not upon a cross
but within the space
of a crawl
The pain was more
than a swollen wave
that crashes upon a shore
But the pull remains
and my shoreline’s thinner
If a fish I would drown
within the sand
that a whale would devise
a plan to evade your tide
So the world I crucify
and slip into an ocean deep
:: 01-25-2024 ::
I SAW today
the rarest color
of them all
that which nature
bestows to one
It was not a star
nor human
but a creature
most dapper
‘Twas the peacock’s
neck blue region
only visible upon
a brightly lit day
is the most
heavenly blue!
:: 01-25-2014 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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