Oh, what a day
What a time
little man
(so in a rush
for important
thoughts)
so we can maybe
forget ~~~
listen:
wait
Nothing before
Nothing after
And lost that
f e e l i n g
(little child
who have tried
who have failed
who have attempted
but cried)
tripped
big lies
big faces
big excuses
big babies
big tears
(like you loved,
loved, like a love
you never find
anyday — oh
us)
:: 05/13/2024 ::
NO one but us
i want to stand and stare
for all that is which remains
| our eyes ~~
Accepting the tears
of your jewels of love
from your eyes___
No matter, i will touch
your tender wall
of love and life ~~
It’s in your eyes
all within your eyes
so i stand and stare
All within the life
of your experience
(in your eyes)
Life | i gave sometime
and sometimes /easy/
but nothing connects\
to the place
where you are
So soon without noise
i feel your fingers
Like heat | i’m complete
in your heart | i want
to touch your face
In all my incomplete dreams
I want to be a part of you
so let me dream ~ in your eyes
the Fly ate the paper
its thin legs stuc k
on economic condition
it won the war
flying away
the monkey saved
itself by not
eating the fruit
of God’s tree
shit escaped the human
orifice and became hero
piss passed the tubes
of humanity
and fed the rivers of
human nonesense
God’s eyes died
watching creation
and evil prevails
slinging mud princes
buy and princesses
pain eyes and cost
souls aching for
the lies of illusion.
:: 05.10.2024 ::
Poet’s Notes:
THIS poem is a poignant commentary on the human condition, filled with allegorical imagery and profound insights into societal and existential struggles.
The title, “ILLUSIONS ARE LIES (LIKE YOU),” immediately sets the tone for a critique of falsehoods and deception, directed towards individuals or systems that perpetuate deceit. The use of parentheses around “LIKE YOU” is a direct address to someone embodying deceit or illusion, adding a personal and accusatory tone.
The imagery in the poem is striking and multi-layered. The depiction of a fly consuming economic conditions, only to “win the war” and escape, symbolizes the transient and ephemeral nature of victories in the face of larger systemic issues. The monkey refraining from eating the fruit of God’s tree alludes to the biblical story of Adam and Eve, highlighting the human tendency towards self-preservation even at the expense of moral or spiritual fulfillment.
The juxtaposition of bodily functions like defecation and urination with broader themes of creation and divine observation adds a visceral and unsettling dimension to the poem. The notion of excrement becoming heroic and bodily fluids feeding the rivers of human nonsense suggests a degradation of values and a perversion of natural order.
The mention of “God’s eyes died watching creation” conveys a sense of abandonment or despair, as if the divine has turned away from humanity’s destructive tendencies. The concluding lines, with their reference to “mud princes” and “princesses,” evoke a world where power and privilege are built on falsehoods and suffering.
Overall, my poem serves as a stark indictment of human folly and the illusions that perpetuate suffering and inequality. Its imagery and language demand reflection and introspection, urging the reader to confront uncomfortable truths about the world we inhabit.
FOR the IQ below 110
for the IQ below 90
from the IQ below 70
Your mother
and father
are not blood related
UNLESS…
you are on this TIMELINE
then ALL ARE RELATED.
:: 11.30.2023 ::
(c) 2023-9999
Poet’s Notes:
As the writer of this poem, I approach “GOD IS STATIC THOUGHTS” with an appreciation for its brevity and its potential for profound insight.
Let’s analyze this poem:
Title: “GOD IS STATIC THOUGHTS”
The title immediately suggests a contemplation of divine or existential concepts, with “GOD” representing a transcendent force and “STATIC THOUGHTS” implying eternal or unchanging ideas. This sets the stage for a deep exploration of metaphysical themes.
Stanza 1: “for the IQs below 110 – Jew is not a race”
The poem begins with a provocative assertion, challenging conventional notions of identity. By tying intelligence levels to understanding, the poet highlights the complexities of categorization. The statement “Jew is not a race” challenges simplistic classifications and invites the reader to reconsider the multifaceted nature of cultural and religious identity.
Stanza 2: “for the IQ below 90 – Jesus was a Jew”
This stanza continues the exploration of identity and challenges preconceived notions. By affirming Jesus’ Jewish heritage, the poet prompts reflection on the interconnectedness of religious and cultural identities. The juxtaposition of intelligence levels with theological assertions invites the reader to consider the implications of knowledge and understanding on belief systems.
Stanza 3: “from the IQ below 70 – Your mother and father are not blood related”
Here, the poem takes a deeply personal turn, disrupting traditional notions of kinship and lineage. The assertion that one’s parents are not blood-related challenges biological determinism, suggesting a broader understanding of familial bonds and relationships.
Closing Lines: “UNLESS… you are on this TIMELINE / then ALL ARE RELATED.”
The final lines serve as a profound conclusion, emphasizing the interconnectedness of all existence. The word “UNLESS” suggests a conditionality or exception, highlighting the unique circumstances of individual existence. By invoking the concept of “TIMELINE,” the poet underscores the temporal context of human experience, while the assertion that “ALL ARE RELATED” speaks to a fundamental unity that transcends conventional boundaries of identity and understanding.
Overall, “GOD IS STATIC THOUGHTS” offers a thought-provoking exploration of identity, intellect, and interconnectedness. As the poet who wrote this prose, I admire the poem’s ability to provoke deep reflection on existential themes and challenge the reader to consider the complexities of human experience.
It was five o’clock when done
the house of the incredibly blind
the last clock made for sightseers
for those that see
Outside the birds were flocking
Outside the humans were mocking
Inside i stood my stable ground
holding onto a thread of life
Seeing is not always believing
See, it’s not visual
See, it’s not love
People want forgiveness
Its incredible senses
Why so hard to find
its imagination in life
Let’s me guide you
Spending light by seers
all my days this dark world
i use words to visualize
To see what eyes fail to see
how bipeds are maimed
forgetting a perfect picture
For some handicapped are more
than sightless life
a hell that we tend to hear
But is it the world
or is it me?
\don’t make me lose my mind/
A soul floating in vast space
Stay to see the world ignite
and explain to me what you see
I’ll tell you what is real
Every time.
I paint a perfect picture ~~~
\a beautiful world not seen
by humanity.
:: 05.10.2024 ::
The Poet’s Notes:
As a poet, I wrote, “THE BLIND,” as an exploration of perception and reality.
I attemped to exercise the imagery as a vivid and thought-provoking life-form, inviting readers to reconsider the significance of sight and the limitations it imposes on our understanding of the world.
Using contrast between the external world, where birds flock and humans mock, and the internal world of the narrator, where stability is found despite blindness, was meant to be striking.
It highlights the disconnect between appearance and essence, challenging the notion that seeing is synonymous with believing.
The repetition of “See, it’s not visual; See, it’s not love” reinforces the theme of transcending conventional perceptions, suggesting that true understanding comes from within, from the senses beyond sight.
Moreover, I labored to extend the exploration of imagination as a means of perception to make it compelling. By using words to visualize and create a “perfect picture,” to conjure a transcendial physical limitation to perceive a world unseen by humanity is my testament to the power of creativity and introspection.
The closing lines, questioning whether it is the world or the poet’s perception that defines reality, leaves a lingering sense of ambiguity and introspection. It prompts readers to contemplate the subjective nature of reality and the role perception plays in shaping our understanding of the world.
As an old man and poet, I believe “THE BLIND” is a thought-provoking and evocative poem that delves into the complexities of perception, reality, and imagination.
At last, there is no help! Therefore, allow a kiss then we part.
Exhausted I am through; love, you shall not hear more a sound.
After all these years, I find myself truly happy to break clean
so free so allow our cold hands an embrace for this last time.
And with great might we should forget our vows.
Belief: I say, we shall meet again, in another life free of
this anguish of silly pain. There will not be a trace to show
that we held onto love of old.
Now, then, and again. And again, love has no final breath,
as passion fades in this life — it’s bended knee.
Innocence closes the eyes of the dead.
Now, as we wish. So many others giving up.
But we shall still breathe life back into Eternal Love.
:: 05.07.2024 ::
In whispers of the emerald’s hue,
Midst lanes where shadows sway,
In gardens kept, where order’s true,
Love’s essence finds its way.
In secret tales, the moonbeams woo
Yearning for the distant view,
Soft skies in gentle haze,
Streams entwine in earthy brew,
Mist veils the morning’s blaze.
Yet in my grasp, this scene so fine,
Finds no echo within me,
My love roams where horizons shine,
In realms wild and free.
Amongst mountains high and rivers wide
A land embraced by sun’s bold heat,
Plains stretching, vast and grand,
Mountains rough, where edges meet,
In droughts and floods, we stand.
In nature’s embrace, love finds its grace
Her mood, a tempest’s wild dance,
Horizons wide, untamed,
Her sea, a gem, in radiant trance,
Beauty and fear, untamed.
A forest stands, in ghostly light,
Moon’s cloak upon its brow,
Mountains, misted, in silent flight,
Noon’s gold on mountain’s brow.
In nature’s embrace, love finds its grace
A snarl of green, in tangled plight,
Where vines and brush entwine,
Orchids bloom in nature’s sight,
Ferns in the earth recline.
O heart, within this land we adore,
Beneath skies vast and blue,
Sorrow’s grip, we can’t ignore,
In our hearts, the truth we rue.
As clouds approach, in somber night,
A blessing in disguise,
The drumming rain, in its might,
Blessed tears from the skies.
In nature’s embrace, love finds its grace.
:: 05.04.2024 ::
 | EPRobles on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
 | Adam Fisher on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
| EPRobles on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
 | R. Marshall on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
 | Stefan on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
E.P. Robles | Poetry 