Author Archives: EPRobles
About EPRobles
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...
i see you in plastic eyes i smell you in stomach juice
ah! hahaha! would you tell me that you are a queen of my heart?
don’t roll over my stomach!
hahahahahahah aaaaaah
how could you smile when i die
how could you kill me when i’m dead?
would you believe me when I tell
you that you were the queen of my heart?
a boat drowning in the amazon
river — sheesh
hungry piranhas
tearing flesh from all bones
i ate the holy ghost
and Jesus died on the riverbank
And if you save yourself: God
took a finger and stuck it in your ass
— makes you happy now. You really
like to turn pain into sex.
I wonder why you cut yourself
to see red juice fall from my eyes
— your breasts bleed blood so you
fed aborted fetus Judas’ tears.
how I hate you. How many
children unborn die for your
righteous life. You really rock
and knot nightmares.
AND IF YOU FOOL YOURSELF
you will MAKE SATAN HAPPY
brings your evil shit
around. You really like to
knock and roll. It’s rude
but so true.
:: 10.12.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #poetry | posted in Uncategorized
Hello new baby born of this world. Lay your sleeping head, my love,
upon the lap of humanity. Upon my faithless arms; here we cannot eat
color nor hear emotions as where you came from — here time and fevers
burn away as any beauty; a curse and blessing. To understand one must
find their selves at the outer edges of the universe away from all humanity.
Dear beautiful baby, my thoughtful grandchild; the grave proves the
child ephemeral: but within my words and history i know how fragile
all things are.
So watch the swan upon the lake; hear the insects buzzing within the
deep woods — Nature; here tolerant enchanted hope.
It is all about universal love and hope.
The stars send their fossil light in grave vision of supernatural sympathy.
And I love you. I love you.
:: 10.12.2020 ::
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WHEN the sky came down // when the wind left and the
oceans drained \ when the righteous sang, “by god.”
WE saw the creatures of life running to and fro
and saw how the machine held our hearts and eyes —
in chains.
When the sky came down.
when the night wept,
when the eyes of all creatures cried:
they hid from a perfect storm.
Everyone ran fron the wars and left the
desloation of Nations — when the purple
color and red became day when love screamed
we cried…for a god that never came.
Now, afterward we live life in the drifting horror
of dust and sand.
From the cruelty that defines
the small mouths of what humans are: let it be known
when the sky came down when the sun went away
and the Earth screamed and those who claimed
in God’s name he’ll save our skin; the light
burned our sight and killed our kin.
When the sky came down/ when the sun went dark\
and the universe wept and the righteous sang
to a dead god — we survived. Again.
:: 10.11.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #ink, #poetry, #prose, #sci-fi, #science | posted in #afterlife, #Ages, #anguish, #astronomy, #beauty, #lost, #please, #poems, #poet, #poetess, #poetry
SHE is young.
The one who roams amongst pink roses, oh crush
oh must of doves; the fortress of a high ceiling sun, and then
she speaks through a flute of wild wind and separates the clouds
from the rain.
My skin, my heart, my eyes are filled with cherry blossoms
and only then and only then I realize I am spurting from my heart.
i smell the smell of fallen water as drops upon thirsty dirt;
i hear i feel the thunderous hoofbeats of raging horsemen,
dreams filled with velocities and misfortunes.
i see i see the bloody roses and thorn knives cut flesh
who rides a beast of Love with an apple and goblet of wine
because i am a poet of words and words and emotions
that can never die. Broken wings that are twisted charis
waiting for a winter, and the dead dove, with love.
:: 10.10.2020 ::
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IN the depths of thoughts we go as we are in night
of long lists, in the night like a pisces; your slient
silence-sign screams — come // lodge me in your back
\ in your mirror, suddenly, memories, solitary,
nocturnal pane: bleeding from the knife in the dark
behind you.
Flower of sweet summer wind
total light bring my calling
upward to your mouth of kisses,
bleeding from separation
(silent private) words.
Now, then I breathe your breath
as though we made sex catching our
heartbeats. It is what the dark night preserves.
Welcome me, broken hammock in a threadlike evening
when at dusk the sun surprises a sky star eye
within my skull — twinkles filled with win.
No surprise. Substance glues my eyes.
Madrigal thoughts inside music — an invitation
what the last breath of Love preserves//inside
a cedar box\ deep substance down to me,
smothering my eyes, your hyperExistence cuts
across me, wondering if my human heart is destroyed.
Little baby feet patter across the garden of
your Highness \ and an exiled mouth bites the flesh
and the grape, i lick the blood from the cuts of
baby breath: my hair made of madness and from sun’s
depth — the tick-tock clock face, of systematic
madness.
sings the fallen angels:
“Madrigal as baby Feet.”
within a cedar box.
:: 10.20.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #famons, #listen, #love, #poetry, #publish, #surrealism, #words | posted in Uncategorized
The taste of your skin and the color of your heart
i’m crying
i’m singing
when we touched our lips in twilight
i see blue eyes weeping
tell me, when we hugged goodbye
was your heart always beside us
in memories of vain; through years
and journeys and moons and suns,
as children cry out for joy when
it rains when it rains
Love as a dry earth burgeoning that
it did not know// someday when we
met younder the gallop of horses,
the infinite perfume of a dusty earth
that everything you spoke, everything
from your skin that everything comes
back to my mouth.
i’m crying
i’m singing
like newborn bread:
and with you i become born again
in the rain.
:: 10.10.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #ballad, #blue eyes, #faith, #love, #poetry, #rain, #sorrow | posted in #poet, #poetry
Oh my goodness gracious let me tell you the news:
My head’s been wet with the midnight dew // I’ve been down on bended knee: Talkin’ to the man from Galilee. He spoke to me in the voice so sweet. I thought I heard the shuffle of the angel’s feet \ He called my name and my heart stood still.
When he said, “Phillip, go do my will!”
Well my goodness gracious let me tell you the news:
My head’s been wet with the midnight dew — I’ve been down on bended knee.
Talkin’ to the man from Galilee. He spoke to me in the voice so sweet
I thought I heard the shuffle of the angel’s feet.
He called my name and my heart stood still.
When he said, “Phillip, go do my will!”
I’m a-listin’ to the gospel man
I’m a-listin’ to the gospel man
Well my goodness gracious let me tell you the news:
my head’s been wet with the midnight dew.
I’ve been down on bended knee.
Talkin’ to the man from Galilee.
He spoke to me in the voice so sweet:
I thought I heard the shuffle of the angel’s feet
He called my name and my heart stood still
When he said, “Phillip, go do my will!”
Just a whisper in the dark
Just a whisper in the dark
Could have been by any other name
You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Till you hear the trumpets and all the angels
marching. It’s alpha and omega’s Kingdom
coming.
:: 10.10.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #death, #God, #judgement, #life, #love, #men, #poetry, #prose, #truth | posted in Uncategorized
i can stir you with a swizzle stick //make a thin neck break: make you
a Manhattan that takes you to Jupiter now \ through the heart rye or Canadian whisky and red vermouth :: we travel the stars buying all the real estate like a bloody Mary and turn your coals into ice or make your spine climb up your back — Maraschino cherry
(swizzle stick) a truce for life up in my room and pull
the world from under you /analyze any faith through the brain
with no antidote — we all know blow-back sometimes for a thrill
but nothings like Earth’s air (we are searching for a place
like Earth to ruin again) light years to go.
Bought a planet called HD 209458 b (nickname “Osiris”)
all they wanted was a few beads and an axe called the “lady.”
reminded me of my ancestors and Chicago. Now I am soiled by
soul; interplanetary officers joke and say, “he would sell
his mother if she was a rock.”
So now i set my sights on a region called Empty God.
No planets, stars, or gases.
Under my console i keep an ancient alien document
no one knows of — therein lies the mercy of God.
After thrusters here i go.
:: 10.10.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #Earth, #humans, #poetry, #prose, #sci-fi, #space, #words | posted in #angst, #anguish, #awaken, #beautiful, #big question, #poet, #poetess, #poetry, #poets
So, madness is a flower of the forest. Recommend an appetite.
I built a bunker from Trump and Biden with a laser beam.
Keep away politics!
I am naturally human — a Prince of calm, treasure of fascinating cuts:
saving my wrists and bleeding my mind — recommend another food for my heart.
i hate confused souls; scholars, Dubonnet Sir Pint, souls bleeding a middle man
are heaped with lavender pyramids, drive me wild! She comes to me. Anytime i recommend
her appetite blows everyone’s mind. Insatiable appetite.
In all her words she never spoke how to overrule planets nor systems — a baroness
then again so gentle: she gave art and war.
She leaves systems to become born. A great mother -- an elegant female spirit.
Drives you wild — class of agility and rules space and time….
what an appetite. we try.
:: 10.08.2020 ::
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O’ ZONE burns my nostrils. I was conceived by the
pre-birth of the big bang /my father was no thing you
could understand \ we three created the concept
of what you called God and then we went forward bleeding
stars and planets across the path of our birth. Wishing
we were like your God, we had no point of conception
; it was before space and time. The three of us had our
talent. One for science, the other for philosophy, and me:
THE MIND.
So we did. Created Physics and the color of vision.
turned toward dead eyes.
Created the Landlord of all universes — he a psychopath —
a rat age. They slept in what had once been a gymnasium.
Watched the Son of God die — there were worse things than crucifixion,
there were terrible cries and gashing teeth.
His Soul snaking out at his Ankle.
I was 16 when I was murdered. October 16, 1979. No antidote.
It was a pleasure to burn.
So now, realize: ghosts do not haunt places but minds.
Do you lick electricity and have nothing to fear?
i know you think we’re strange but do you have fears?
We were never born upon a planet but inside glory.
:: 10.08.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #poetry, #words | posted in Uncategorized
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