THE WORLD OF POETRY IS WEAK

ALL smiles chill inside as streets scream asphalt
dark — shimmering vials so broken/hearts\
smiles so croquet leave behind time:
a need for sophisticated
selection mystifying –> all we know/ fingers lightly
upon ivory keys and my heart upon the minor
tones of a fugue
— tongue.
eating desert sand tasting heaven’s ceilings above
who have ever died in dirt and exploded above
dangerous clouds — everything human.
As if hearts dwell in solitude–Oh, does your
phosphorus heart light the em-pty crests of desert
sands while digging bruised, lifted, spreading
trees of i stretch them in the air –?
My bloody hands, reads from the book of Poverty
and Death — hooks within a gapping mouth of God
— cannot utter words nor sound nor breath, nor kiss,
is love and love within its finest moments
before death.

which shapes existence and within subtle curves
and ever must — the mystic homeless One.

:: 07.07.2020 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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