HOPING is a giant hammer, terrifying, and insane
at tender times, while the heart hides away;
crying like laughter releases compressed
emotions — there is no wrong or right but a golden
trumpet, teeth shattering upon each note played___
the paunch of my feelings gilded wainscoting.
Wondering if Heaven has graveyards — the hope
of dying twice/once in hell upon Earth the other
one inch inside the pearled gates
of your thighs.
:: 06.20.2020 ::
“&”
MY Love do not save my seat as i’ve planned it since my love
has decayed;
The Great Escape
that your face was a portrait of poisoned beauty:
*** AMPERSAND ***
the rejected regrets!
“&”
so here we go once again.
:: 12.22.2019 ::
How many laughs and evening deaths has your room screamed?
The bed — of many years which wrinkled your eyes of life and illusions
which burst leaving youth behind that could not answer my questions?
What love and lost life?
:: 06.18.2022 ::
WHEN you’re done the poet heard people in the hall, and hushed music.
He was lying on his back and his lips started to taste blood and the chorus came up
and the boys started to sing and Oh oh oh You are alone in the river!
You’re all damned in hell. All the aborted babies screamed, “So lucky to meet you!”
I can still see your eyes as bright as the day of judgment.
You’re all sinners and damned in hell. I can still see your eyes as bright as the day of judgment!
Hush
Hush
You can take it. We’re the good guys and you’re the bad ||
Right now it doesn’t matter! That your frail screams rise to heaven
We’re the good guys and you’re the bad
Right now it doesn’t matter.
Tears up through her veins go insane
and begging God to stop the rain.
A self-appointed Judge judging and jury.
The world gives it’s life for greater end.
Her angel stood by too long and now plucks
it’s eyes out and lights another cigarette
to comprehend how dead is so dead.
So soft is skin. So scared. Addiction is flesh
and blood.
:: 06.19.2022 ::
IF only i had my friends!
But i’m so ugly. ~~
i’d waste away my days,
for days scared i light
my candles and pray to God.
As of today, I am at waste
and still lack a brilliant
poem.
A soul dilapidated a ruinons estate!
:: 06.19.2022 ::
SWAMP song in throat
moss hair girl ghost
eating pain and cancer
gumbo, jambalaya, etouffee,
how i left my skin behind
upon Bourbon Street
where sin sticks neon signs
eating La Boulangerie
and King Cake.
Beignets.
Walking dizzy i found catfish
bones and cajun ghosts inside
my left foot’s shoe.
Found a house with a party —
danced with Delphine LaLauire.
She told me about her loves /
how she killed them \
slaves of her household.
She never knew what I was —
the werewolf of the South.
How her veins teased me.
Now I am happy. Because I
have friends and choose bottles
of plastic fluid. I light my
candles at my desk and think
how dead she is. Buried.
:: 06.19.2022 :
it’s raining but the ocean is still on fire.
With her peachy shore i am for the sea
and i think I know where to find her.
With a boat and an island that calls her name
swimming with her with a roll of surfboard
a windblown tourist all waiting for her
like myself ~~ a flayed lover
a void under the stars.
:: 06.19.2022 :
Beard [masked]
muffin pop stand
there’s something about sweet words!
As the wave erupts and floods you in your sleep.
Imperceptibly you slide towards the madness of dreams.
You feel the sticky dampness of a nightmare.
Your dilated eyes as magnet tar pit traps drowning in white ocean.
The wave of sleep reaches up to hug you gently,
holding your limbs. Taut, anchored to the bed.
your brain without moorings off your paralyzed tongue ~~
the waves finally drowning you in the coolness of dreams
beyond all fathoms.
:: 06.19.2022 ::
 | Damien de Soto on Could I Be |
 | EPRobles on Could I Be |
| Damien de Soto on Could I Be |
| Damien de Soto on Drowning in Fear |
 | romanticallyinclined… on A PECK OF KISSmOuth |
E.P. Robles | Poetry 