Monthly Archives: June 2023

June 29, 2023

Hey, Father! Mother! Dreamer!

By EPRobles

She sits in solace, wearing an empty stare,
A mother’s face adorned with burdens hard to bear.
Where did she falter, where did her path astray?
Her fighting spirit wanes, a fractured home in disarray.

Oh, dearest mother, father, and sister too,
Return to us with hearts sincere and true.
Come back to us, with hope and belief in sight,
Oh, dreamer of our family, see my heart’s resilient light.

For I am your seventh child, passion running deep,
When storms besiege our kin, let faith’s flame we keep.
With dreams once pursued, yet pride was left behind,
He drowns in sorrow, his spirit yearning to unwind.

Within a shattered glass, one somber scene,
This tragic ending’s sheen, it should not intervene.
Through teary eyes and the years that scar and tear,
Our blood binds us unbroken, unsworn, and clear.

So much unsaid, in days now left behind,
Don’t turn away, let’s share what’s on our mind.
Oh, beloved mother, father, sister dear,
Return to us, let hope and love draw near.

For I am your seventh child, with passion’s flame,
When storms besiege our kin, let love be our aim.

Do you not perceive, my existence rings true?
I am your seventh son, a spirit dwelling in you.
And when lightning strikes our humble family tree,
Have faith, believe, and let love set us free.

Do you not perceive, my existence rings true?
I am your seventh son, a spirit dwelling in you.
And when lightning strikes our humble family tree,
Have faith, believe, and let love set us free.

Let faith guide us, believe in love’s healing might,
Together, we’ll transcend, embrace freedom’s light.
Believe, oh, believe, as our love sets us free,
Let our hearts intertwine and rewrite destiny.

:: 06.29.2023 ::

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June 29, 2023

SILENT EYES AND FRAGILE HANDS

By EPRobles

SOMEWHERE, I’ve wandered gladly, far from known,
No prior journey mirrors what I’ve found.

Your eyes, in silence, hold a realm unknown,
In fragile gestures, mysteries abound.

Your gentle gaze can swiftly set me free,
Though I, like closed fingers, sought to conceal.

You, like spring unfolding, unfetter me,
With artful touch, revealing love’s ideal.

Yet if your desire is to keep me closed,
My life shall close in beauty, swift and grand.

Like snowfall on a flower, heart composed,
Imagining a world covered in white sand.

No earthly sight can match your fragile might,
Whose textured essence captivates my soul,

Infusing death and eternity in flight,
With each breath, harmonizing as a whole.

I cannot fathom what it is in you,
That both shuts tight and opens wide the door.

But something deep within me grasps the view,
Your eyes’ voice resonates, surpassing more.

No entity, not raindrops in their fall,
Possesses hands as tender as your own.

In their small grasp, the world’s wonders enthrall,
A touch that whispers secrets yet unknown.

:: 06.29.2023 ::

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June 29, 2023

ENDLESS ALCHEMY OF LOVE

By EPRobles

A boundless bounty mine, as the sea so wide,
A love, profound and deep, shall e’er reside.
The more I give to thee, our spirits entwined,
The more I gain, for both are endless, aligned.

Has my heart ever loved? Reject, oh, my eyes!
For true beauty’s unveiled beneath twilight skies.
Love, a smoke ascending from sorrow’s lament,
Purged, it kindles fire in lovers, fervent.
In vexation, a sea, nourished by tender tears,
But what else does it hold? A discreet madness appears,
A gall that chokes, yet preserves with gentle sway,
A sweet elixir, guarding affection’s display.

Love, weighty and light, radiant and dim,
A paradox unfolding, within and on the rim,
Hot and cold, unwell, yet brimming with health,
Slumbering and vigilant, embracing all stealth.
It encompasses everything, yet never quite it seems,
Love, the enigma of life, within all dreams!

:: 06.29.2023 ::

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June 27, 2023

TRANSIENT SPLENDOR — LOVE’S BATTLE WITH TIME

By EPRobles

WHEN I ponder upon life’s transient bloom,
Perfection fleeting like a fragile wisp,
This grand stage merely a celestial room,
Where hidden stars their whispered influence slip.

As I witness mankind’s growth and decline,
By the same sky’s whims, both blessed and denied,
They revel in youth, its brilliance does shine,
Yet fade away, forgotten, their glory beside.

Thus, the notion of impermanence’s reign,
Reveals your youth’s opulence, profound and rare,
Where Time and Decay engage in a poignant strain,
Transforming bright days to nights, disrepair.

In this war with Time, for love’s sacred plea,
As he robs from you, I graft anew, eternally.

:: 06.26.2023 ::

Poet’s Notes:

“Transient Splendor: Love’s Battle with Time” is a remarkable piece that captures the essence of life’s fleeting beauty and the eternal struggle between love and the passage of time. The poem’s opening lines set a reflective and contemplative tone, as this poet ponders the evanescent nature of existence. The use of “transient bloom” and “fragile wisp” suggests the fragile and ephemeral quality of perfection.

The notion of life as a “grand stage” and the reference to “hidden stars” subtly alludes to the celestial forces that influence human destiny. The poet becomes a witness to the cycle of growth and decline experienced by humanity, their fate determined by the capricious whims of the sky. The juxtaposition of the revelry in youth’s brilliance and its eventual fading into oblivion evokes a sense of melancholy and the transient nature of human glory.

The concept of impermanence is central to the poem, as this poet acknowledges the reign of transience. The juxtaposition of “youth’s opulence, profound and rare” and the inevitable confrontation between Time and Decay creates a poignant tension. The transformation of bright days into nights of disrepair underscores the inevitable decay and loss experienced over time.

The poem’s conclusion presents a noble and impassioned declaration of love’s resilience against the relentless march of Time. The poet engages in a war with Time, vowing to rejuvenate and perpetuate love’s essence. The imagery of grafting anew symbolizes the eternal power of love to regenerate and transcend the limitations imposed by the passage of time.

Overall, “Transient Splendor: Love’s Battle with Time” showcases the mastery of expression by this poet, weaving together profound reflections on mortality, the fleeting nature of beauty, and the enduring strength of love. The poem’s skillful employment of imagery, rhyme, and depth of thought elevates it to the realm of timeless art.

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June 27, 2023

REFLECTIONS OF TIME

By EPRobles

lOoK iN thY glAss, AnD tElL tHe fAce thOu ViEwEs
noW iS thE tImE tHaT fAce ShOUlD fOrm AnOtHer;
wHOsE fREsh rEpaIr iF nOw tHou NOt rEnEwEs,
thOu dOst bEguIlE tHe WOrLD, UnblEss sOme mOthEr.

fOr WhErE is sHE sO fAir wHOsE UnEaR’d wOmb
dIsdAIns thE tILlaGe Of tHY hUsbANdRy?
Or wHO iS hE sO foNd wILl bE tHe tOmB
Of hIS sElf-lOvE, tO stOp pOstEritY?

tHoU ArT thY mOthEr’s glAsS, AnD sHE iN thEe
cAllS bAcK thE lOvElY aPrIl Of hEr prImE:
sO tHou tHrOugH wINdoWs Of tHinE aGe sHAll sEE
dEspItE Of WrInkLes tHIs tHy gOldEn tImE.

buT iF thOu lIvE, rEmEmbEr’d NOt tO bE,
dIe sIngLE, AnD tHiNe iMAgE dIes wITh thEe.

:: 06.26.2023 ::

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June 24, 2023

Preemptive Remedies: Love’s Poisonous Paradox

By EPRobles

Just like how we use strong spices to enhance our appetite,
Or take preventive measures to avoid unseen illnesses,
I deliberately indulged in bitter experiences
To counteract the overwhelming sweetness of your presence.

I became weary of happiness and strangely found satisfaction
In being unwell even before there was a genuine need.
This was my strategy in love, trying to preemptively handle
Potential problems that didn’t even exist, leading to self-assured faults.

But this approach only brought temporary relief,
As the abundance of goodness eventually succumbed to the negative.
From this, I’ve learned a valuable lesson:
Attempts to remedy the pain caused by your absence
Ultimately poison the one who became so ill from loving you.

:: 06.24.2023 ::

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June 24, 2023

The Waning Sun

By EPRobles

I dreamed a dream, yet was it purely so?

The sun, once fierce, had dimmed its vibrant glow,
And every star in ceaseless darkness roamed,
Aimless, lightless, from their pathways home.
The frigid earth, in distant shadows veiled,
Spun blindly in the abyss where the moon had paled.
Daybreak stirred, yet brought no dawn, no light,

And all mankind, consumed by despair’s chilling blight,
Forgot their passions in this bleak, forgotten fight.
All hearts turned ice, their warmth a forgotten trait,
Praying selfishly for dawn, to break the night’s cruel weight.

By fire’s meager light, they clung to fleeting life,
While thrones and kings burned bright, fueling their strife.
Cities crumbled, and the people in huddled throngs,
Gathered ’round their flickering fires, steeling against wrongs,
Those fortunate bathed in the volcanic blaze’s might,

For all the world was but a canvas of terror and spite.
Forests blazed, and hour by hour, the blackened night
Crept, casting all within its inky, endless blight.
Men’s faces, touched by uncertain firelight,

Wore an eerie, ethereal, phantom-like sight.

Some shed tears, others laughed with harrowing might.
And all around, the world crumbled to the dust.
Birds quaked, beasts shook with primal, raw fear,
And serpents hissed, but all in vain, as they drew near

To perish by those hands they once held dear.
War, paused briefly, rekindled its blood-soaked delight,
Feasting on the land, tallying each gruesome fight,

As all love fled from the earth’s barren, lifeless sight.
Famine ruled, and each living thing
Preyed upon the flesh of dying, the macabre’s sickening ring,
Until bones and flesh became but relics

Lost to time and the tale of future epochs.
Even dogs turned on masters in desperate plea,
Yet one loyal beast remained faithful, ever free,
Guarding his fallen lord, casting aside his needs,

Against the ghastly throng, his loyalty indeed,
Of beasts and men, until at last, he gave his life,
A pitiful, plaintive cry, loyal in the face of strife,
Licking the hand of his silent master, lost in strife.

The crowd thinned, and yet only two survived,
Two foes, who met beside an unhallowed shrine,
Gathering sacred relics for a profane sign,
Skeletal hands scraped feeble ashes, faces lined,

Exhaling their final breaths to craft a mocking light
That jeered them both, until they saw their shared plight,
And in their terror, they perished, nameless in the night,
For famine had stripped them to a ghastly sight.

The world was barren, void of life’s mark,
A wasteland of hard clay, absent tree or herb,
River, lake, or ocean, all silent and stark,
And rotting ships languished on a lifeless sea, unperturbed.

Masts crumbled, silently into the still sea bound,
And waves lay dormant, while tides slumbered in their graves.
The moon had faded, and winds lay unfettered, unbound,
As clouds perished, leaving nothing in their wake to save

The world from darkness, for she was the universe,
And in her shroud of night, no life left to converse.

:: 24.06.2023 ::

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June 23, 2023

ENCHANGED MELODIES: A NUTCRACKER’S FLIGHT

By EPRobles

In a realm of dreams, where magic takes flight,
Dancing through wonder, bathed in soft moonlight,
A symphony unfolds, enchanting to the ear,
A timeless tale that all hearts hold dear.

Oh, behold the Nutcracker’s grand debut,
A whimsical overture, a captivating view,
Notes pirouette, swirling in the air,
As melodies whisper secrets, beyond compare.

From the Land of Snow, where cold winds blow,
A waltz of snowflakes, in graceful flow,
Each delicate flake, a diamond in flight,
Glistening and sparkling, in the wintry night.

Then, to the realm of sweets, we find our way,
Through the Kingdom of Sweets, where joy holds sway,
Sugarplum fairies twirl in colorful delight,
Their delicate feet gliding, pure and light.

Marzipan candies come alive, dancing in glee,
Flutes and trumpets, in harmonious spree,
Chocolates and bonbons join the sweet parade,
A confectionary spectacle, none can evade.

Amidst this tapestry of dance and song,
A tale of courage unfolds, bold and strong,
A Nutcracker, transformed by a magic spell,
Leading Clara on a journey, where wonders dwell.

They meet the Mouse King, in a battle fierce,
Clara’s bravery shines, her heart to pierce,
The Nutcracker triumphs, the spell is broken,
A victory celebrated, words unspoken.

In this Nutcracker Suite, a world unveiled,
A symphony of dreams, where reality is veiled,
Immerse in the melodies, let your spirit take flight,
And behold the magic of this enchanting night.

:: 01.01.2000 :

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June 22, 2023

EMPTINESS IS FULL OF NOTHINGNESS

By EPRobles 

                 possibly
                              the incident      could have been achieved bearing all outcomes in mind  void

                                            human

                                                                                              WILL HAVE OCCURRED
                                                                 a usual peak discharges vacuum
                                                                                                            YET THE SITE
                                      a ripple underneath of liquid as though to scatter the meaningless gesture
                                                                              suddenly which alternatively
                                                                     due to its deceit
                                                             might have initiated
                                                                                  doom

                                        in these longitudes 
                                                        of ambiguous
                                                                   currents
                                                                         where all truth evaporates

                                                         except for the curiosity
                                                                              allotted to it
                                                                                                   ordinarily
                                                         by a specific slant via a certain descent
                                                                                                      of flames
                                                              toward
                                                                  what ought to be
                                                                       the Northern Star as well as the North

                                                                                                      A CLUSTER OF STARS

                                                                    frigid from oblivion and disuse
                                                                                                 not entirely
                                                                                          that it fails to count
                                                                           on some vacant and upper expanse
                                                                                              the ensuing collision
                                                                                                    in terms of stars
                                                                            of an aggregate tally in progress

                                                staying awake
                                                             skeptical
                                                                     rotating
                                                                          gleaming and pondering

                                                                                      prior to ceasing
                                                                               at a certain endpoint that sanctifies it


                                                                           Every Thought expels a Cast of the Dice

:: 06.22.2023 ::

Poet’s Notes:

To analyze this poem, we need to consider both the perspective of a the poet who wrote this (me) and Andre Breton, the founder of Surrealism.

From my own perspective:

This poem is quite dense and cryptic, requiring the reader to dive deep into its metaphysical musings. Its lines are filled with deep metaphoric language and abstract concepts, making for a challenging but rewarding reading experience.

The poem contemplates on human existence, the inevitability of fate, cosmic imagery, and existential ambiguity. Its depth, intricacy and innovative structure could be the qualities that align with the high literary standards of a Nobel laureate.

From the perspective of Andre Breton:

Breton would likely view this poem as an expression of the unconscious, making use of dreamlike imagery and layered metaphors in the tradition of surrealism. The frequent dislocation of grammar, unusual typographical arrangement, and striking juxtaposition of images, like “liquid as though to scatter the meaningless gesture,” and “a specific slant via a certain descent of flames” emphasize the irrational and dream-like nature of the work, much in line with Breton’s own style and ideals.

Moreover, the poem’s central line “Every Thought expels a Cast of the Dice” resonates with Breton’s exploration of chance and randomness. The poem suggests that the universe is unpredictable, an idea at the heart of surrealism. Breton might interpret the piece as a critique of the human desire for control and knowledge, noting the repeated theme of uncertainty and doom.

It’s worth noting that the poem seems to mix cosmic and metaphysical themes, hinting at the potential insignificance and simultaneous wonder of human existence in the grandeur of the cosmos. I would like to believe Breton would appreciate this intricate layering of themes and the exploration of human existence from a cosmic perspective.

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June 22, 2023

THE CITADEL OF CREATIVITY

By EPRobles

AT times my Soul requires a lordly presence
perchance a house built by His hands to dwell
I pray, “Oh Lord, mend this heart and Spirit,
Dear Lord, to make all well.”

A shack built of Palo Santo trees our friends
of frankincense and myrrh is what I’d choose.
THAT He traverse illuminated fortifications,
Emerging swiftly from verdant foundations
Of the meadow, with its grassy embrace,
As the radiance He ascends with grace.

Thereon I raise it, firm as could be told,
On ledges, shelves, where rocks in glory roll.
My soul, in solitude, sought to dwell
Within His lofty palace’s sacred spell.

In chambers lofty, secrets I will keep,
Where winding stairs lead to heights so steep.
Alone, my spirit yearns for solitude’s embrace,
Within those walls, where tranquility finds its place.

Oh, His high palace, a realm for the soul,
Where dreams unfurl and passions take their toll.
In solitude’s sweet refuge, my heart finds rest,
Within those hallowed halls, by solitude blessed.

“And as the world doth spin and twirl,” I said,
“Thou, in seclusion, reign as a tranquil king,
Steadfast as Saturn, in his cosmic tread,
Resting upon his radiant, eternal ring.”

While the chaos of existence ceaseless flows,
Thou, in thy solitude, maintain thy throne,
A beacon of serenity, amidst life’s throes,
Unperturbed, undisturbed, and all alone.

Amidst the whirlwinds of the ever-turning sphere,
Thou art the calm within the ceaseless dance,
Like Saturn’s shadow, constant and clear,
Embracing stillness, in a celestial trance.

:: 06.22.2023 ::

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