Iron Horses

Iron Horses

A Poem by E.P. Robles
"

I am native american.

"
LOVE is locomotive
 running on weak tracks
of steel-rail and wood
 Like Death
clambering for sun
  digging upward for life
is love
is death
is life
experience
  clickety-clack
sun, dirt, and forgotten
smiles
    epitaph
chiseled ghosts upon stone
  the soul a caboose
leaving sound and steam clouds
  iron horses.
:: 05.31.2023 ::

© 2023 E.P. Robles


Author's Note

E.P. Robles
Not today.

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Featured Review

How unusual no notes. This poem is therefore open to interpretation. Iron horses, steam trains across the landscape of the Native American. This poem speaks to me of struggle. Clambering , digging, dirt tell me so.

epitaph
chiseled ghosts upon stone
is haunting

forgotten smiles

I saw natives on horseback looking at the steam clouds, listening to the clickety clack of the train on track with dismay.

Powerful images here of how change comes and decimates lives and living

LOVE in capitals

I don’t think there is much love in this poem.

I see death and bloodshed and sadness. I am touched by the imagery I see.

Chris



Posted 10 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

How unusual no notes. This poem is therefore open to interpretation. Iron horses, steam trains across the landscape of the Native American. This poem speaks to me of struggle. Clambering , digging, dirt tell me so.

epitaph
chiseled ghosts upon stone
is haunting

forgotten smiles

I saw natives on horseback looking at the steam clouds, listening to the clickety clack of the train on track with dismay.

Powerful images here of how change comes and decimates lives and living

LOVE in capitals

I don’t think there is much love in this poem.

I see death and bloodshed and sadness. I am touched by the imagery I see.

Chris



Posted 10 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Imagine how your ancestors must have felt at the first sight of a train. Demons, they must have thought. And for them they ended up being demonic. Carrying their oppressors with haste to destroy their way of life. And most didn't even get a chiseled stone. Just became dust from dirt as they were treated. Your poem took me to some powerful sad history.

Posted 10 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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63 Views
2 Reviews
Added on May 31, 2023
Last Updated on May 31, 2023
Tags: poetry, native, american, horses, rails, locomotive

Author

E.P. Robles
E.P. Robles

SAN ANTONIO, TX



About
I write a lot and I paint a lot. I think just enough that I believe I am a very crazy person at all times. I am very friendly to a fault and find life very very short. I write in bursts with each p.. more..

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A Poem by E.P. Robles