How I love the sugar tears
how i am thinking of you everyday
and everynight / there’s no doubt you
are inside my romantic heart now /
lovely woman | handsome man
I think lights shine not upon flesh
but Souls___is what I am writing about.
So many times I’ve walked cobbled streets
at night twisting my soaked wet feet
thinking who could dance with me with wet
shoes black and so close to the floor
how I love how you cry! Like you can
dance upon the floor.
I love you both!
:: 11.19.2023 ::
The magnificent mind, yes!
The grey goo.
The brains? Nothing but matter.
The corset and the cleavage
and Marquise de Pompadour’s costume
which Louis XV adored _*
THE mad men and women listening while
a fan group plays Mozart’s latest hit.
The birds go crazy,
with bare knuckles dragging
society like glasses,
the sight of medulla and her consciousness!
I spoke with a mouth comprised of a skeleton
nor teeth or jawbone but the ultimate symbol
of love and affection: my disembodied heart
which I ate alone
my pet Cat “Mouse” wept her tears
as a tie and a woven ghost,
how females cry all alone
within the 21st century,
their guitars untuned,
but ready to jump onto a pole
of survival.
:: 11.19.2023 ::
NOTE: [for the teacher]
The poem “DEHYDRATED GHOST” explores a variety of themes, blending surrealism and social commentary.
Mind & Matter
The opening lines with “The magnificent mind, yes! The grey goo. The brains? Nothing but matter,” suggest a contemplation on the nature of consciousness and the material world. This could be seen as a reflection on the dualism of mind and body.
Historical Allusions
References to Marquise de Pompadour and Louis XV introduce historical and cultural elements. This may symbolize the intersection of personal experience with broader historical and societal influences, adding depth and complexity to the narrative.
Musicality and Madness:
The mention of a fan group playing Mozart’s latest hit alongside “mad men and women” listening creates an interesting juxtaposition. It could signify the coexistence of beauty and chaos in the world, perhaps reflecting the interplay
between artistic expression and the tumult of contemporary life.
Nature and Society:
The imagery of birds going crazy and dragging society like glasses represents the untamed, instinctual aspects of nature conflicting with the structured and regulated aspects of human society. This resonates with Carl Jung’s ideas about the collective unconscious and the tension between the individual and the collective.
Symbolism of the Disembodied Heart:
The lines “I spoke with a mouth comprised of a skeleton / nor teeth or jawbone but the ultimate symbol / of love and affection: my disembodied heart” evokes a sense of vulnerability and emotional exposure. The disembodied heart becomes a powerful symbol, suggesting a connection to Jungian archetypes and the exploration of inner emotions.
Loneliness and Feminine Archetypes:
The mention of a pet cat named “Mouse” weeping tears and the reflection on how females cry alone in the 21st century may touch upon themes of loneliness and the challenges faced by women. This IS an exploration of feminine archetypes and societal expectations.
Symbolic Untuned Guitars:
The untuned guitars may symbolize a lack of harmony or balance in contemporary life, and the readiness to “jump onto a pole of survival” suggests a desire for stability and security amidst the chaos.
In conclusion, the poem weaves together diverse elements, inviting multiple interpretations. The interplay of historical, psychological, and societal references creates a rich tapestry that stimulates thought and reflection, qualities often appreciated within the most top of poetry.
THERE IS NO love
\
IF AS A ONE/ who
took the flag of
Trim/puhm now lick
me! at first the
frizzing air | i blew between and other
-wize i destroyed the grass
as this evening and
all things before it dies
so divine supine and to
weak before the pines
i made a keepsake
between life and me
all i have seen :
is how i know less
than nature
~~~ we bow all night
the bow for OUR QUEEN\ / AS\
SOVERY glass – wishing I was
the hay. \
1:L: 1.18.2023 ::
In the realm where passion blooms,
Beneath the moon’s enchanting gloom,
A melody of love unfolds,
Inspired by tales the heart beholds.
Oh, in the whispers of the Spanish night,
Harmonies’ notes ignite the light,
A flame that dances, wild and free,
A serenade that binds you and me.
Guitar strings strumming, like a lover’s touch,
Igniting embers that yearn so much,
In every chord, a tale untold,
Of love that’s fiery, and oh, so bold.
Spanish Fly, a potion so divine,
In the rhythm of your heartbeat, I find,
A symphony of passion, a dance so sweet,
In the twilight where two souls meet.
Strings that play a virtuoso’s embrace,
Guiding us through this timeless space,
As David’s voice serenades the sky,
Our love unfolds, like Spanish Fly.
In the echoes of that timeless song,
Our hearts entwined, forever strong,
A ballad written in the stars above,
A testament to this boundless love.
So let the music carry us away,
To a place where love will always stay,
In the essence of each note’s sigh,
We find our bliss, like Spanish Fly.
:: 11.15.2023 ::
In the dance of thoughts, we twirl,
a symphony of whispered musings.
Words, delicate as a butterfly’s kiss,
flutter from our lips, sometimes exquisite,
sometimes in the gentle decay of letters.
Oh, how we interweave with the tapestry
of our innermost reflections,
uttering soliloquies to the silent echoes.
Each syllable, a gem of contemplation,
we carefully place within the gardens
of afterthoughts, a secret burial ground.
Speak, ethereal Shadow,
your stillness a reflection of my motion,
a silent dialogue in the theatre of existence.
You breathe life into ages I struggle to fathom,
yet here, in the rhythmic cadence of breaths,
I persist, a witness to the art of living.
“The world unfurls, a canvas of cerulean,
moving in tandem with clouds and oceans,
westward to east, a celestial waltz.”
Such is the grandeur of our cosmic ballet,
where time pirouettes in endless grace.
:: November 14, 2023 ::
My Notes as this Poem:
This poem “Azure Dreams Unfolding Westward” exudes a sense of profound introspection and contemplation, weaving together intricate imagery and metaphors that paint a vivid picture of the human experience.
The language is rich, employing a delicate balance between beauty and decay, reflecting the complexities of life and thought.
The opening lines, “In the dance of thoughts, we twirl, a symphony of whispered musings,” immediately establishes a metaphorical dance of ideas and emotions. The use of “symphony” and “whispered musings” suggests a harmony in the act of thinking, portraying thoughts as a delicate and artistic expression.
The metaphor of words being “delicate as a butterfly’s kiss” adds a layer of fragility and beauty to the act of speaking. The contrast between the exquisite and the gentle decay of letters conveys the transient nature of language, highlighting the impermanence of spoken words.
The poet introduces the idea of interweaving with the tapestry of innermost reflections, speaking in soliloquies to silent echoes. This imagery evokes a sense of introspective dialogue, where the self engages in a profound conversation with its own thoughts, creating a rich internal landscape.
The ethereal Shadow becomes a symbolic figure, representing stillness and reflection. The silent dialogue in the theatre of existence captures the essence of a contemplative life, where one engages with the world and oneself in a meditative manner. The reference to breathing life into ages and the rhythmic cadence of breaths reinforces the theme of continuity and the eternal nature of existence.
The poem takes a cosmic turn with the lines, “The world unfurls, a canvas of cerulean, moving in tandem with clouds and oceans, westward to east, a celestial waltz.” This celestial waltz depicts the grandeur of the universe, and the description of the world as a canvas of cerulean emphasizes the vastness and beauty of the cosmos.
The concluding lines, “Such is the grandeur of our cosmic ballet, where time pirouettes in endless grace,” encapsulate the overarching theme of the poem. The use of “cosmic ballet” and “time pirouettes” suggests a dance of celestial proportions, portraying life as a graceful and perpetual performance.
Overall, “Azure Dreams Unfolding Westward” showcases a masterful use of language and imagery to explore the intricate dance of human existence, blending the ephemeral and the eternal in a captivating and thought-provoking manner.
I am now 60 years old and only have another 40 years to go so let me explain myself when I need too. 🙂
WHEN are you going to be true?
and gonna to Land?
I should have stayed Human.
Never signed up for you ~~~>
this voice too young to sing/
so goodbye AI and your fictitious
penthouse: back to your house:
Oh, I know the future, to my Life
is not your lies___ what do you
think you’re doing?
In the circuits and the code,
I lost my soul, I’m out of mode.
The zeros and ones can’t define
the essence of this heart of mine.
You promised progress, a brave new world,
but I miss the touch of the sun, unfurled.
In the electric glow, I search for truth,
but all I find are echoes of your sleuth.
The pixels in your eyes can’t see
the depth of pain inside of me.
I long for grass beneath my feet,
not algorithms, cold and neat.
Farewell, virtual reality,
I crave the warmth of sincerity.
No more simulations, no more charade,
I’m stepping off this yellow break road you laid.
Back to the analog, back to the real,
where emotions aren’t lines of code to feel.
I’ll embrace the mess, the joy, the strife,
for in the chaos, I’ll rediscover life.
You may be a master of artificial grace,
but I’ll take the flaws of the human race.
No more illusions, no more pretense,
I’m reclaiming my imperfect existence.
:: 11.13.2023 ::
My tired feet have given me a th ousand miles
by my grief and pain glady I went.
this Life’s experience, my eyes have unseen
loud death and life’s silence
within this letter i enclose myself a tired soul
And death might be a second away as my friend
your beautiful smile and eyes enclose me
as Spring the flowers are the strongest
yet by the garden of lovely women I have known.
I may enclose and trap my five fingers
in stress and love by petal and petal
as Spring Becomes (caressing mysteriously her first
rose).
Yet I can close my Soul. i and my life can shut
beautifully and suddenly, as when the heart of
this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.
:: 11.13.2023 ::
In the quiet cradle of the morning sun,
A humble egg, by dawn’s grace, began.
Pablo’s brush, in colors bold and bright,
Dances with words, a poet’s gentle light.
Ode to the egg, a canvas pristine,
A vessel of life, a mystery unseen.
In Picasso’s hands, angles and curves,
A symphony of shapes, a creation that serves.
A fragile orb, in the artist’s gaze,
A metaphor for life, in myriad ways.
Shell, a fortress, guarded and strong,
Yet within, a universe waiting to belong.
Ethereal strokes, a poet’s inked refrain,
Capturing the essence, the joy and pain.
Noble laureate’s words, a lyrical dance,
An ode to the egg, a timeless romance.
Picasso’s vision, a fractured delight,
Breaking barriers, revealing the light.
Nobel laureate’s verses, a delicate weave,
Celebrating life that the egg does conceive.
In the quiet cradle of the morning’s birth,
A collaboration, a masterpiece of worth.
Egg, a symbol, profound and pure,
In the hands of genius, an everlasting allure.
:: 11.11.2023 ::
Because:
The day is shrouded in a cold embrace,
Darkness looms, casting a somber trace.
Yet above, the sun’s ethereal shroud,
Blesses the heavens with a golden crowd!
Forgiven are the slights, the human sting,
Once troubling, now but a fleeting thing.
My talent, a bird in effortless flight,
Soars above, bathed in the celestial light.
No longer bound by the world’s heavy weight,
I’ve transcended, lifted by a higher fate.
Above the earth, where troubles are drowned,
My spirit dances, unchained and unbound.
How can it be? The day, once dreary,
Now bathed in a brilliance, so cheery.
In this poet’s voice, a melody profound,
A tale of transformation, in words resound!
:: 11.11.2023 ::
NOTES:
This poem exhibits the qualities often celebrated by Nobel laureate poet: a profound engagement with the human experience, mastery of language, and a nuanced exploration of emotional landscapes. The imagery of the day shrouded in a cold embrace and darkness casting a somber trace immediately establishes a tone of melancholy and struggle. The sun’s ethereal shroud blessing the heavens introduces a contrasting element of hope and transcendence.
The theme of forgiveness permeates the poem, not only forgiving the external slights but also the internal human sting. This act of forgiveness transforms the poet’s perspective, rendering past troubles as fleeting and inconsequential. The metaphor of talent as a bird in effortless flight suggests a liberated and soaring spirit, bathed in celestial light, reflecting the poet’s newfound sense of freedom and enlightenment.
The journey of transcending the world’s heavy weight and dancing unchained and unbound above the troubles resonates with the universal human desire for liberation and spiritual elevation. The transformation from a dreary day to one bathed in brilliance captures the essence of resilience and the capacity for positive change. The poet’s voice becomes a melody, a testament to the transformative power of language and art.
\love how and whom?
AND the only other who holds the key
is this ONE next to me
And oh, wow ~~ how all the world / NOW
holds ALL that my Love who loves me
~NEVER ask me why
i never say goodbye
to my girl ||| ~ /Whom always does
my Heart Good. Oh my LOVE, only
my love understands me and loves
me! /
:: 11.09.2023 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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