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 ::
THE day began
as a fire
burning it did
the line’s horizon
What grand power
to hush the dark
in tender hour…
Such a fire
burns within
— a daily dose
to chase away
such darkness
for repose!
:: 01-25-2014 ::
I BECOME unhinged
this powerful emotion
a potion of boiling life
within me is all
singing a chorus
— of release!
:: 01-26-2014 ::
DESIRE pleases us
in many ways
the natural urge
— that compels
for many it must
be fastly quenched
or the magic
— loses its spell
My desire can never expire
it dwells within another place
— far from flesh and skin
between the fold
of existence
beyond the sight
of human eye
My desire — a burning fire
needs no explaining
it resides over there
— beyond the way
eccentric I am
some would say
:: 01-26-2014 ::
|
THE presence of my anguish
compels the bloodbath of words
singularly slaying convention
rules for sheep within fences
Bind that tongue if you must
conform if you must for peace
but leave the rest for warriors
We sing the song and keep the fire
Liberty comforts the heart-free
the rest bask in uniformity
blood-eye patriot survive for me
bring home my sense of liberty
Sweet precious families sleep
the peace a burden for the strong
upon our backs deliver we must
the future of a free society
:: 01-24-2014 ::
SOME say death is by chance
a twist of fate
— merely happenstance
And other take the rein
believing death by their own hands
I say death is the magician
A slight of hand — misdirection
— allowing humans to believe
the end is fate or self-fulfilled
But angels see the COLD PACT
forged before time itself
Life is a ledger and always paid
— when balance is due
:: 01-12-2013 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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