Author Archives: EPRobles

About EPRobles

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Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love...

COCKATIEL

I had a cockatiel.

She kept flying, circling
her cage and would beat
her wings cackling as she fell;
the cage door opening ~~~~~~
I couldn’t stand watching.

I was like a terrible parent
caged in my own unhappiness.

And the love I had tore me in two,
another love had taken my soul away.

I am empty.
I am empty.

And like my cockatiel
I am hungry for love.

I sit listening to a crow
cawing, at peace with the world.

:: 04.07.2022 ::


ECHOS INSIDE THE TRUNK OF A TREE

What, sir, what?
He looked at my face.

“I think your name is Viola!”
He exclaimed, waving his hand.

He acted quite surprised,
when the Queen’s Viola herself
crushed into him, almost, as she said,

“My dear man, it is here, quite naturally,
that we keep our mysteries. And to keep mysteries
and to give secrets…I did you the whole
world over—in no time while you slept,
when, instead, I lay down beside you
to keep you company, quieter than the others.

You slept, and when you awoke, again I went to sleep.
When you awoke again, I again visited your bedside.
And then it was too much: my legs were too tired,
my form too pliant, my reveries too pregnant
with yearning, too exhausted by dreams to make
much of these close, fumbling tokens:
my sacred braid.

After that, you were conscious:
I helped you dress, and then—
you carried me off to the balcony,
and here we are, tonight,
where I took my first great pleasure:
I acted, rather than spoke;
I play, rather than set to music.”

THEN, magically, heavenly, Viola is able to wield her
musical instruments to render the fallen body of
a trumpe, a siren of ancient seas. As though, the title
of manuscript like the benediction, ‘Ubi Stancendo’
cannot be bought with gold, like a Talmudic scholar
who has escape from Heaven to Hell.

That was the first date.

: 10:35 PM 4/7/202210:35 ::


THE ANGELS OF ELYSIUM

THE Sun reborn and divine
The Dragon Of Light and Shade
The World awoke ~
You Hear Ravens Fly
It’s Morning
The Light wins the night
The Great Work is done
Back from the darkness
Behold!

To look at the lights
I’m Waiting for the Angels Of Elysium
Waiting For the Eastern glow
Oh dance in the dark of night
Sing to the Morning Light
The Mornin’ Light!
My will is to hear you sing.

Meaningful snowfall, a Lifetime
Of broken dreams, selfish leaders,
Left wing leaks, lies and fake news,
Dishonesty, and The Destruction of the Soul
– Outrageous // double standards, the Elite
Vs. You.

So we dance in a darkened night.

:: 04.07.2022 ::


THE EARTH’S TENANTS

We are all tenants in an Apartment called EARTH.

And we’ve wrecked it. Tore its walls out,
ruined its water and destroyed its air.

The parking lot is crowded. The grass
is dead. The animals in fear.

As much as I hate to say, (as a tenant)
the landlord must soon evict us!

:: 04.04.2022 ::


I FEAR I SHALL WAKE UP

i fear i shall wake up in the morning to
find the world understands my poetry.
Then the mystery of soul is gone.
Then the mystery of love survives.
That’s the only choice — to choose both.

:: 04.04.2022 ::


REVENGE OF GAIA

He Is No Longer The Light He Used To Be
On Golden Wings he lost sight Oh Dance In The Dark Of Night
Sing To The Morning Light

The Magic Runes Are Writ In Gold to Bring balance Back
so bring It Back On Golden Wings as Two Guitars Gather
within broken darkness I Don’t Know What To Do

I’m Moving Out On My Own

A Bad Mother’s No Bully
She’s Got A Chance
Like This Down To Get It
Oh My Gosh Up And Down

i lost my head oh lost
inside a small flower
challenging a bee
it stung my needs

Falling Out Of Love With
The flesh and last tastes
of blood i knew i was dead

Yea a journey to the green heart
to necessitate endless growth
a garden of sacred art

How Do I Live Without My Shit!?!
Home Alone — aren’t we all

She’s Got A Touch Of Spice
Ooh Hey
And Out Of The Blue
There Goes The Weekend
Boy Gets A New Girl
When In Doubt Play The Bad Girl
when confident i simplify life

then a great day to fuck off
grab my coat and a coffee
so we go.

:: 04.04.2022 ::


BROKEN THINGS

MY eyes are tired.
That which i have kissed
is everything upon your head
and religion of flesh.
i accepted everything.
Now my mind sweats losing
thoughts — broken legs.
i sleep inside the sewer
of your bed in all it’s dirt.
fallen sun. broken moon.
where once we had fun.

:: 04.04.2022 ::


EDWARD HYDE’S SANCTUARY

ACT I

Night enters. Ned Sandy: paralysed in eye by gun shot.

Scene: Mannequin with rotting limbs “Deadman on the Freeway.”
And instead of being the good guy, he’s good, bad, worse.
Why kill? Don’t know yet, but maybe he had an affair with his client’s wife
and that’s why her husband killed the four guys. Maybe that’s why we’re reading
this now, maybe even typing this, but then “Deadman on the Freeway”, too could be Will Rogers.

With dead, all in the middle of the road. Come, the business man, because the cops will come
and he’ll know about it. He’ll know the ends and outs, all the dirty secrets. Just a shitty
little man with issues, everyone needs someone. Maybe they’re his problems. In space, man has
only one star in his eyes. You and me, buddy, we’re on this road for eternity, my friend.
My friend is dying here, dying of a bullet in the heart. It’s dead man time.

(Ned Sandy) “I think I’m going crazy. I think the whole world is under death’s thumb.
FUCKING.”

(Salt Shaker) “You just can’t imagine what it feels like not being afraid.
‘Coma’ played, fragments of Janis.
And ‘Amarillo by Morning.’
I need sleep.”

At 1818, we get some thunder. Seemed fine then but now I’m alone, not sure what’s missing,
like who’s gone. What’s worse, I don’t even need to be afraid. The ground’s giving away,
sinking, I’m in limbo. Too afraid to leave though, want to linger and be afraid in the silence,
scared of waking up.

The only sound is the wind.
Lights in the clouds, storm.
‘Rolling into town’ played, fragments of James Taylor.

‘I am the Walrus’ played.
Here it is now. A choice that couldn’t be more clear.
I look up to the sky, watery as the ocean.
‘Just like an Eagle’ played, fragments of the Who.

‘Sweet Leilani’ played.
Not in danger now, no way.
‘Rock Me Amadeus’.

It’s the end, but not in an end.
Time to go.
First night back in “The Land of Night”.
Won’t be enough to finish the work, but I will finish what I came here to do. I’ll
I’ll finish this. I’m here because I want to be. I have work to do.
Mid-morning. I didn’t sleep. Time for coffee, 8AM and day’s halfway done. Something happened to make me stay here, drink this coffee. I don’t understand it, don’t understand it but I will.
Maybe I’m just having an existential moment, a moment of reflection, of spirituality. It’s crazy to talk about this, but as we move through our lives, it’s the moment you realize what you are and what you are not.

Maybe I’m just realizing that I’m a writer and that that’s the best thing I could be.

:: 04.04.2022 ::


GLISTENING NAILS

Pierced by my glistening nails.
I love your hair with the lightest of touches.

I rip your mouth with my lips.
Let me love you. *Body. It’s honey,
that’s all. * Darling, be mine!

Be my temple.
Let me be your village.
Let me be your state!
Let me be your God.
You’ll be under my domination.
All in Your Mine!!!
Come, eat from my right breast.
You’ll be my lover, I’m just dying to kiss you!

Come to my bewitching kisses, I don’t care where.
I’ll get in heaven or hell.
I’m only with you. * With his strength,
His hands.
His lips, his teeth
And even his strong tongue.
He wants to make me happy.
He will only take me to heaven.
And let me be the best in the world!
After a while, he’ll be bored.
And then I’ll be the best in the world!
To serve you, darling is my world of horror.
To serve you, sweet, and not to be fucked
for fuck’s sake.

And to be taken in my turn.
To be loved for myself.
For me alone.

Then shall I die.

:: 04.04.2022 ::


THE MEMORY OF MY NAME

IF I broke the memory of my name
let me not betray moments of now
or of that history yet born.

How thoughts are indiscreet
or alters when alteration finds,
how hope in light never dies
O no!  How powerful is reason
and that of a look upon tempest
never shaken;  how that poison
of a first kiss is always a step
into the most beautifully broken
dream — and all souls whose
worth in unknown height that many
hope  — is a star inside Heaven
How love is never time of fools
but how youth and belief becomes
brief hours and weeks and years
until a day comes when a torn
broken soul remembers those
errors of life that came home.

:: 04.03.2022 ::