Poetry, Prose, Essays and Other Works by Rob San Miguel, a Professional Nobody.

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ADVISORY

Some poems contain words that are acceptable to open-minded adult readers only

18 September 2017

Poetry: "To a Friend, (Hech)"

"According to the law of conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone, just less orderly," (Aaron Freeman, "You Want a Physicist to Speak at Your Funeral.")

You have not left,
At all,
My friend,
Not a single bit,
Of you,
Your energy,
Dispersed into trillions,
Bolting to your next unnamed rebellion!

At the table where the great gadfly
Habitually kicked his bulls,
I drank my last coffee,
With you,
Unbeknown to the rest,
You were fulfilling that infinite jest!

There were no angels, no saints, no deities
Hovering our nicotine-filled mist,
Just two eccentric brains on hyper-speed,
Decoding Madonna,
And those endless parades of upright centipedes!

Your joy, your pain, your triumphs, your disappointments,
They all plowed through the common road,
But you always took charge, and let go
When “they” were intending to pull you low,

If “they” only knew
That underneath that sardonic witty casing,
Something benign was silently… brilliantly… pulsating…

I shall not say farewell,
Only fool “believers” engage in that,
Not us,
Feisty vamps on the verge of something yet to be spoken,

I shall not forget, my friend...
Before the glare of the Sun masked the lies,
You jolted me with the inconvenient necessary truth,
I said “aye,”
“We see the same.”
We have discovered how the great tyrants played their Games!


17 February 2017

(Poetry) Untitled, First Line: "I burn you on my skull until the grooves resemble a tapeworm"

I burn you on my skull until the grooves resemble a tapeworm,
You turn my tongue to blades until I tasted my own blood,
You are merciless,
You are utter violence,
You do not make it easy for me,

I am the one in control
Yet,
I bend to your will
Like a dope fiend oblivious of the end,

I am alive
In your trance,
But you let me die all the time,

For all my futile tasks,
I still open myself to you
Like a whore,
Wanting,
More,

I am, the un-chained
In this never-ending game,
Addicted, to this public shame,


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