my NUDE MIND
unfolding this extravagant
tightly wounded emotion
///////into\\\\\\\
words i dearly wish i could
express in touch and kiss!
the private sentiments by
which dusty desert winds
blow away; like all great
compositions of hearts and
souls!
And my palette is full of red!
as blood, dear, as blood
though cold it is you i
embrace of fire and wood
and the winds! the winds
say, “kiss her again and again”
:: 07-10-2015 ::
i found a bag of stringFULL
pearls
and i don’t care if you
use me again;
kissing sharpArrows
slung by Cupid’s despair
the mythology is the forgotten
romance of humanity
the great Ones never clog their-
sevles with the feeble praise
of poetic life ~ and i need you
even dirt understands me and
for-heaven’s sake i won’t believe
there’s not another place
where we will not sit
it’s so cold to be NoWhere
so old to be here and so easy
to blow up problems; it’s so
easy to breakdown and so easy
to love the sound: “i love you”
hands on ankles feet on wrists
and naked in thoughtful
bliss of you ~
:: 07-10-2015 ::
i would with older shoes walk wet streets and watch
mirrored water scattered-by what was my dreams
the taunting children of school screaming “you are
poor!” seeing holes within my pants/but my heart was
and ALWAYS new regardless of school’s seasons and some
-gentler kind HEARTED souls would befriend me }| in the
library always where I stayed at recess and after lunch
until the metal heart beating drill-drum thrumbed rapping
ringing bell rang:
“come! let us congregate
again and match brain-to-brain!”
i always won when they
picked upon my soul
always gentle to them
but the lesson was higher
than the chin upon where
they gripped the floor
life, that burning decision of purpose!
:: 07-09-2015 ::
i look away then
what if you never look
at me? WHEN the clock ticks
and never says time
i say i always lose
i never hear what you
say so go slow
confused || warm nights
and if when then sometimes
C O N F U S I O N
i hear you calling my name
‘dear, i go slow and if
you wish watch the clock,
and if you fall learn
how the second hand moves’
it’s a single moment of time
that moves us through life
and hope you find it
it’s a reason why i’m out
of time ~ and if you’re
lost i look away then
what if you never look at me?
It’s when the clock ticks
and never says time
:: 07-09-2015 ::
THERE is unbelievable
magic
in everyday life
if only slightly(why? or lest
we understand)
t e
a r s
a The):I AM L O V E
BESTING the sweetest KISS
from the tiniest smile
hugging LIFE and FEAR
and,
Embracing Soul and Spirit
Earth, Flesh and Blood
remembering who WE ARE
the CIVILIZATION WITH HISTORICAL
AMNESIA
:: 07-09-2015 ::
THE penny in the gutter
saw me ; nothing more exactly
terrible than
throwing opportunity away.
one lost by holes in a pocket;
than like despair which impersonates
a lonely street: me || the walls ||
my heart that lived, asks: “should
mind overhear and explain “Who?” —
the silence,knowing,feeling,SAYing
“do WE pick up the penny within the
gutter?” and then maybe hugging a
lonely dying destitute soul within
a park: a penny for your thoughts ~
for your hearts, for your soul
:: 07-09-2015 ::
PROOF has a
roof of towers captured
in narrow moments and,
what if you and i awaken
to discover hearts
have picked the
brimming-lit flowers of
life-passion?
(some pain too)
; our dreams that leave
our feet wet from the meadows
of time we’ve run chasing
for reasons!
and if you turn away
let it be toward the sun
and me; we that
bring light to proof
that roofs are towers
capturing narrow moments
:: 07-09-2015 ::
the gentle gesture of thanks
wishing all best —
loving all you read
i thank you so very kindly
for how you showed interest
in my own silly words!
again, thank you!
:: 07-08-2015 ::
if a poetry is ANYBODY (ydobyna) INSIDE-OUT
turned sideways and outside IN
is anyone curious to know what
poets feel? AND if money or fame is purposed
by focused glasses of magnified lens of fame
then let the word-smith burn ants upon hills
But if somewhere with (it does seem within
the cavity of our chests) prose speaks to us then
let him or her write it down for humanity! i think there
is something to passion when a heart is mixed
with words and no desire for financial advancement
to let no no say:
‘your words are worthless’
:: 07-08-2015 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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