Monthly Archives: December 2020
Hey boys go get yourself a soy drink & cut the bottom of your pants
so true so sad
betray the roots of all that’s nature & lay down the dog and drown.
As you were; keep yourself in the dirt and create castles of mud
cause you don’t know what it means you don’t know what it means.
We can have a chore; some say nature (like more)
is more — whose song sang drowning the right way?
Sometimes i scream so hard
i shoot myself through the throat
and take words and ghosts and make
baby-paste for women.
oh right. haha. so right.
So lonely i cry at night all the time.
Wee can ask for more fate is more
(nature as a whore) who is fruit
who is poison? aaaaaah! This is a
song about losers and losers gain
so much more. Especially when you have
no idea what is more. Righteousness is God
and Righteousness is horney wanting more.
:: 12.30.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #adult, #crazy, #dark, #fucking, #hate, #love, #poems, #poetry, #sex, #sorry | posted in Uncategorized
LIFE isn’t so easy from the weakest side
somehow it pulls you into the darkest life
and emotions, so hard to hide
and decisions you make are a habit
so hard to break!
Do you need a friend? would you take me
inside, alone in the dark?
Do you read the words you write —
are you sure sometimes the illusions
are not real?
Can you blame away the pain?
Can you leave me alone in the dark?
(in the dark?).
Do you need a friend that tells no lies?
Would you appreciate my words if i never
took a chance with your heart?
Habits, so hard to break.
Love, so hard to hide.\
In the dark.
In the dark.
In the dark.
:: 12.30.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #crying, #love, #poetry, #sadness, #waiting | posted in #abstract, #poems, #poet
U hear that noise?
It’s an alarm.
It’s telling you you’re in a bad place
and you have to get out.
Don’t’ panic.
It’s just another day in life.
I’ve been here before.
One day I’ll meet you.
I’ll be at the elevator shaft
taking this elevator like everyone else.
Somthin’ would be so disappointing
for us if you don’t show.
So go and enjoy the view; “it’s only a plane
or two or three, no big deal.”
says the manager of tough reality — oh me!
:: 12.30.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #abstract, #ink, #love, #poetry, #surrealism, #wordds | posted in #abstract, #poems, #poetry, #poets
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
The biggest market is pacifiers
You know what goes in pacifiers?
Another mouth to feed.
A vagina to suck!
I went to the market and said, ‘Hell, no!
‘Give me an organic glue
“If only we had time we would have inserted a fucking hole
in my balls. I could have given her diabetes.
Yeah, I could have forced her to eat cheese!
That smells like my wife’s pussy”
No (i have no wife! no!!!!!!)
Going back to nature is not just about foraging:
You have to stop
You have to let go
You have to give up
You have to ask, ‘How can I have this?
I don’t know about water.
I’ve always had a problem with water
And everyone refuses to feed Love.
Life so full of secrets. Then again,
something about water.
You’re searching for more than
What I have. Because something’s got to be
better than this!
Nothing is better than this.
When it’s time to give up, to move on
and to let go; to get to the next level
it’s a little later in the day. Hey.
I’m off to find water. I don’t know where it is
but it’s there.
This island is in trouble: our government is out of control
and sooner or later the disease will spread.
It will kill us all!
In my arms I cradle a gun
It is mine and only mine.
I need a drop to survive
If only I can find a vein
My mouth is watering
with the sweet relief
of Love’s heroin.
But it is not enough. My heart is racing like a fish on a line.
I have to leave but I cannot. My fingers are shaking
my veins are dry.
I need a drop to survive
I need a drop to survive
And the worst of it is I don’t know where it is.
But it is there.
I don’t know how to find it
I’m looking for water or Love?!?
Ohh
Ohh
I’m looking for water
Ohh Ohh
Water!
Ohh
I need a drop to survive
:: 12.23.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #anguish, #darnkess, #dying, #ink, #lies, #madness, #paper, #people, #poems, #poetry, #sick, #writers | posted in #abstract, #analysis, #anguish, #attraction, #awaken, #poems, #poet, #poetry, #poets, #powers, #profound sadness, #quantum, #rape me
i wish I had more time and opportunity to explain my disgust to your rust-stained sarcophagus. To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.
Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth to your rust-stained sarcophagus!
To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.
Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth and your heart could only love the person who feeds it for nourishment — is a difficult task; so you resorted to Cupid’s slingshot!
But here’s an alternative: follow my heart down the garden path, until my sticky feet block the entrance of Cupid’s grave.
Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.
Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.
Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.
Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.
Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the paint bucket and I will lay it on a canvas of life
It was exactly 14 days since you told me you left the store early.
14 dreary days and I do not think you’ve been here once (not that I
would blame you for believing it).
14 days since I was mean to you, and then you said you’d be back
by 14.
:: 12.24.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #abstract, #death, #hearts, #ink, #life, #love, #paper, #pen, #pencil, #poetry, #romance, #skin, #thoughts, #wonderful, #writers | posted in #1800s, #abstract, #aching, #analogies, #confession, #depression, #fascination, #poems, #poet, #poetess, #poetry, #poets, #prose
The nasty dark night ate the sun!
The farmers wailed against the dim moon,
“Be sane, or make it otherwise!”
Yesterday i awoke with a torn brain
against lover’s thousand acidic eyes
ripped apart by dying beds.
My screaming wish held but just Ourselves–
and Immortality.
:: 12.21.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #deep, #fear, #hardship, #hearts, #love, #night, #pain, #poetry, #sadness, #sorrow, #sun | posted in #1800s, #please, #poems, #poet, #poetess, #poetry, #poets
As my sensational sensual moments bleed away and are no more seen by the vilest minds
my face deep within the riches of Earth’s soil away from unthought wars!
Unburdened by high wilt of human rine–
as pure Love has championed over darkly love.
And smallest voices as new born children spiritually cries of Spring keeping new born
butterflies afloat, is where Love strives
as droll god-beasts!
Such is the dance of perception as a reflection
through a prism; or early morning dew drop.
Time that not be for us — as purple roses
are sweeter to the but for me: deeper!
:: 12.21.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #blood, #fear, #heartache, #hearts, #ink, #love, #pain, #paper, #passion, #prose, #red, #writers | posted in #1700s, #poems, #poet, #poetess, #poetry, #poets
SHE can bring love with her smile and devastation with indifference
and ruin faith with the turn of her face;
SHE can bring paradise with her arms and paint masterpieces with her lips
and only reveal what she wishes you to see
SHE can bring passion to your life or steal the meaning of all things
breath the deep blue skies and bring a perfect day
Oh, mystery is beneath her footfalls and how her dress bellows while she
never gives out or gives in — she just changes her mind while promising
the Garden of Eden
So love i followed every motion of your emotion as you took care of yourself
and waiting as you want — ooh, she never gives in while singing angelic songs
and cuts you while you bleed
Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm.
She just changes her mind while so kind does anything but gives hope to the lesser
Souls who ache for Love.
:: 12.21.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #anguish, #believe, #broken, #ink, #love, #pain, #poetry, #words | posted in #aching, #all of me, #alone, #art, #brilliant wordsmith, #crying, #love, #poet, #poetess, #poets
When someone is afflicted with an illness, there are those who believe it is all in their head.
If this were true, it is because we are humans, and humans cannot see the universe.
When a person is surrounded by a loud and excited group of people, not one of them would be
capable of understanding the complexity of the universe, the infinite, and the subtlety of
an individual’s mind.
If all were to see, we would have to see a single and limited universe. The creation of this
illusion is the foundation of cancer treatment. The goal is to make the person, no longer in
control of their thoughts, think their sickness is in their head. They are told their thoughts
are sickness, and that their thoughts are not real. They are told they are not a sick person,
they are a crazy person.
This makes it almost impossible for them to wake up and see they are a human being and not a
crazy person. This theory has always amazed me because it has been proven to be the most dangerous
and effective lie on the planet. If we all saw the universe as it is, how could we possibly
want to create something to protect us from it? A story we create with all of our wants, all
our fears, and most importantly, our hate? A story we live to become the newest invention
of the universe? If we are all intelligent beings, then the very idea of a creator must be absurd.
In order to have this illusion, if this were really a trap set by the universe, the traps would be inescapable. It has to be this way. If the world is a lie, the traps are inescapable. For those trapped inside their lies, every day is hell. The only escape is to kill your belief and realize the truth. This is not a matter of escaping in the normal sense, but a matter of escaping through the truth. A truth so extreme that everyone will ask themselves, is it worth it?
This is the only life we have, and we are only here for a very short time. What if we were to live an extraordinary life, and not be forced to follow the rules we’ve all agreed upon? What if we stopped being called “lives,” and started being called “lives in action?” What if we could ignore our fears and heal each other? What if we weren’t forced to create our own world and only follow the rules we actually wanted to follow? What if we finally reached our truth and achieved our happiness? The only question left to ask is, is the balance of the universe in our favor?
:: 12.18.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #heart, #love, #poetry, #words | posted in #poems, #poet, #poetess
TODAY how poetry dazzles gradually
as rain falls slantly
our eyes surprised by equally
blind.
As children weep for adults
and adults ache for youth.
Within love lies a beating heart
and death echoes circuits of life.
Our often dismal living flesh
feels delightful in death.
:: 12.18.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #heart, #ink, #poetry, #soul, #thoughts, #words, #writer | posted in #philosophy, #poems, #poet, #poetess
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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