FROM history a golden step,– among
memories from ancestors, gray
gauzes, and broken bones that
turned back tyranny as bronze
liberated Souls and children
in the sun, no, i regret nothing
No, i regret nothing
so paid for, done, forgotten
i do not care for the past
pain, blood, and miscarried
hopes — i’m done with the love
and trouble of Life so i start
over with nothing!
:: 08.02.2020 ::
(a very long time ago. i praised bewtween
two great poets)
from a hill i caught the last verses
of Will Shapespeare
— a paintful story from a sistering vale,
so silky moment with no end this double voiced
accorded, and lay my head within the biggest bosom
of any woman: a sad-tuned tale; my perfection
is a twisted selection that tangles souls; above
her head barbettes and torques of misty streets
so ancient from then to now: a favour of plaits worn
on each side of the face.
beauty and love are not aligned.
it moves with seasons of eonic time.
:: 08..02.2020 ::
Hey oh hey darling
how the leaves fall
from trees
all my life please
just touch the
fallen leaves
take me so closer
to you : i am far away
so far away until the
wearing of my heart
fades away like night:
tonight my heart is
on the loose || oh
my girlhood could have
desecrated you; avoid infecting
the world: my insides purged
my bloody tales with teeth
as an animal of a clean savior
to scour love.
:: 08.02.2020 ::
escaping from a world full
of images and a tiny screen
full of memories
i died not reaching 10k
rage rage said the light
but my shadows grew
i forget what they want
i forget the stone of my birth
you held it ; go
i’ve had better days
with myself and pink skin
;imagine the danger imagine
forever –> they get what
they want they get what they
need but never again.
:: 08.02.2020 ::
TO be so sad that your tears
flee you is the greatest depth
of sadness.
the perfect point to hit upon the
diamond: shaving off all humanity
and anyone else…
whoever gave
a damn is not anyone
i ever knew and that tears me apart.
breaks my heart.
I watch from the tiny window of my
decaying Soul.
::: 08.02.2020 ::
THESE times are
not good times
— see, the luck
the world’s had
could make a normal soul
turn bad \the last time i
dreamed i dreamed the world
i once had; so your love (lord
knows) is off the market till
August. Funny faces and
bad jokes help Her to laugh.
saying, “you’re bad product
so your friends are all gone,
you survive.
this time:
these times,
like everybody
else.
:: 08.02.2020 ::
\ after the worst of days
of any age –on these nights
when blood meets moonlight
never feel bad for me.
i was glad
to grow upon any night
so winds sing sounds–the
gates are near
ii.
when i wake up–Over there,
framed by a heart whose ventures
i love; take me August nights!
after the worst of days
of any age
on these nights
when blood meets
moonlight.
:: 08.02.2020 ::
TONIGHT i could write the
baddest words: i could not
care where i am going –>
over the thin red line —
she was in a trance/
i put a pound of love
inside a quart of expectation
— will Shakespeare says
” do not go running away ”
but i hit the grown running
TOWARD CHANGE –> nothing stays
the same: change (i hear you
say) say, hey! every era
has words to express change
yea yea yeah — i say change
is a beautiful vagina of flowers
….
:: 07.31.2020 ::
hairy love is brutal
i kissed the epitome
and swum across the
seas — like i screamed
screamed before: you’re
so good — more than love
could wish for more —
i do not love you but because
i love you i die every word/
wishing scholars worried about
my thoughts –> i cannot protect
for their degree is a back city
trance; hahaha \ studying
me.
:: 07.31.2020 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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