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.
:: 07.24.2020 ::
THAT HAS never approached the eternal
light of my Heart
as: Nunc rcm unguentorum,
relish the night as
when tears are not enough
the end is closer
toward a new beginning
than the fears recessed toward
that One who Always Lost
but ——> but not us.
:: 07.10.2020 ::
IN the beginning the word was ‘ah’
and all the stars and worlds were born
and ancient steps of time by law
ensued a caldron of life un scorn
then those with soul and heart became
entwined in union the word be ‘ah’
and soon a gift of child was born
so it was and so it be the power of ah
that even this sound in baby’s breath
da and ma and even God
:: 02-20-2014 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 