NEAR the end of everything
life became more clearer
the whisper became loudly:
i should be laughing
i should be crying
i should be hanging —
up there
so do not come to my grave
because i am still walking
{i am not there]
do not bring me flowers
because i left my heart
beneath a growing garden
(it’s all within my will)
You know that love desires
valleys so deep like an ocean
and the highest of hills
within its swollen rolls
like a mystery mixed in a potion
And everything is made of love;
like a thousand winds that blow
like a smile it kills the heart’s pain
Unlike the day the world came apart
and the sun burned out
and the moon fell down
and the fire became so cold
So i am dead but still walking;
the living ghost of past memories.
:: 05-31-2018 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
SOCIAL WARHEAD
“Today’s so good” my eyes said
not a cloud inside my head
And so you’ll know
picking up all the pieces
isn’t fun
but it’s what we sow
inside our bed
And i’m so clear yes my dear
just a monkey inside a cage
flinging angry feces
toward a world that has fled
And so it goes
And so it goes
And so it’s dead
Kissing the porcelain doll
on it’s shattered head
Am i the only one?
Am i the only one?
Am i the only one
biting on the metal
of a social warhead?
The gene of God
is what’s been bred
the gene of God
is what’s been bled
and the horror’s all
inside our head
so we’re dead.
:: 05-27-2018 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #bullshit, #God, #poetry, #psycho, #social commentary, #war, #words | posted in #psycho-surgery, #social commentary, #society