A living soul gave me a message
today:
“You are remembered within your grave”
and i should reply:
“the biggest fire is before sunset
when families reside upon
a wooden table to fest in life”
And i should cease to breath a terrible
whistle sound by six pm
and (thank you Emily)
“No Coward Soul Is Mine!”
:: 07-12-2015 ::
i AM when the tired day begins
to frail and no thing more:
but writing words!
to see words crawl upon
the knee of me
as spiders with bright
painted talons upon their
legs: i am no one in a
position to relent
this part of horror: and then
sometimes pure love ~~
the town bell sparks sound
whose grave i have already
dug and slept within!
a heart i held within chest
and gave opportunity to love
and now the darkness becomes
a sun so black i am thankful
to finally be home!
:: 07-12-2015 ::
sun
is a kiss
and Soul
a wish
whose lips are fire)
lay before life
dreams so fragile
to the ground
and music:
poetry comes alive!
screaming tired winds of doves
so brightly against fearful life
when death comes
it is a friend!
:: 07-12-2015 ::
WE will never have
a scientist as a President
nor a philospher as President
or an artist as a President
: the role is exclusively
reserved for SOCIOPATHS
And don’t even think of poets!
:: 07-12-2015 ::
IF the gods of time and space relent and if there’s any kind
of justice under this sun and if all the great questions
have no answers then what becomes of humanity?
And if the love of lovers are mirages brought by heat
of passion from the heart of an animal soul — then
let the oceans meet the land
let the magma burst forth
and clear the land
oh, let us try once again in another time oh oh
We live according to race and political shade and our
life is traded by tradition and false religions but we
should keep on trying and i am who i am
you are you and we are One
So let’s keep on trying!
:: 07-12-2015 ::
IF i am separated from your love
then from your hands and heart and
brains: and the soul i saw flutteR
across a golden field outside my
window on I-10 just today
now, oh seriously!
–that since when you disappeared
“i/we” tripping, stumbling as a fool
i wonder: life, that i do drink
from soul’s fountain-dreams
and those line of old books of poetry
across the room taste like wishing-
liquid tears i sometimes THEN drown
within//and mother/father/GoD
is this ink well fathomlessly?
and i know: fear trembles just
a bit beyond a little distant
an instant compared to time!
:: 07-12-2015 ::
All right, okay, tonight we’re talking about
drugs: “Marijuana!”
No. Not Marijuana
“Hash!” No. Not hash!
“Speed!” No, not speed.
It’s let’s give a fuck!
And when i’m at work i want to work
so hard but walk so far between
alone and hearts
sweet so sweet i see the last breath
is colleagues and i can smell formaldehyde
on their breath it makes me wish i could
crawl inside their casket and find solace
the dead always smile when their flesh
fades away and i like lollipops cause
living souls can lick and the dead don’t
have tongues
:: 07-12-2015 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 