Daily Archives: September 29, 2017

September 29, 2017

TASTING LAST WORDS

By EPRobles

i tasted the last words
just within my mouth
and drawn into this life
where orchestras awaken
blood from death
Walking in muddy boots
across the fields of
the world’s death
i took a breath of life
and saw babies eating
remaining memories
i tasted my last words
just there in my love
and drew conclusions
: love is our life trap
and whatever price
i have is priceless advice:
that love is everything.

:: 09-29-2017 ::

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September 29, 2017

REINCARNATION ALL OVER AGAIN

By EPRobles

REINCARNATION helps you
sometimes makes you
feel alive
and sometimes dead
Life can hit you
in the face (oh my)
and memories of youth
are always sometimes
good but now it’s bad
And with lessons to learn
who can keep you in
your seat: maybe now
it’s time to recognize
your brothers & sisters
and now”
we all shout on we
all shout on who
are we <ah!> we’re all
tasting stars and moons
and hugging hearts >
these days are so strange
and everything politicized
forgetting no matter how well
We speak the truth is true
: we are all one.
Oh mama we are all one indeed!
Oh, mama like John said, ”
everyone is high and there’s
UFO’s over New York and I ain’t’
surprised.” Such strange
days indeed!

:: 09-28-2017 ::

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September 29, 2017

EVERY POINT OVERLAPPING EVERY POINT

By EPRobles
AND the pot of gold was resting
there by the  contraption of another world
so baby cry, cry, cry and are we old enough
as a world to know baby
  we can cry and laugh holding
planets and stars within our hands
  yes, we are old enough my smiling
baby Jesus’ with a message at the
train station of life and death.
Especially the voices of crying
children who remember to know better
so cry baby we all try to hold on
to the future of our best wishes
and mostly we’re all programmed
by that way-station on the other side;
our hands holding unknown things
our minds almost remembering them
historical amnesia is our diagnosis
so baby cry
            so baby try
                        so my oh my
greed is an infection
muted voices a reflection
and all the tears like metal
the smell of static like space
lost astronauts in twisted steel
and the pot of gold resting there
by the contraption of another world
making my mind scream.
:: 09-28-2017 ::

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