Author Archives: EPRobles

About EPRobles

Unknown's avatar
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...

Like Presidents Blowing Smoke

Had my love to dig so I dug
 and came up slug –>
one working so hard for it
another working to disrupt me.
So saw an eye on the other side
of a world –> robbing bank
called my love // printing
a magazine online called foolery
 so she commercialize men \\
and made us all like gorillas
feeding bananas to the bitches
  like these presidents blowing
Smoke:: and if we think all of
this is like a coma?  Climbing
out of confusion into a solution
we call Monkey Branching.
   I’m not Joe but came up slow.
It’s like San Antonio, Texas.
   Alamo go –>  beating down
all the brown people called
Mexicans.  And so Ann said,
‘I can.”  I grab my word machine
and say, “Wordsmith back to nexus
— call us all Mixes:: what is
this thing we profess is it all
all Tejas or Texas?”  Let the
American Indians say we are already
gone:  Let the truth ring white
is alone.  The world is One and
so are the peoples of the world
One.  Over.
:: 10-01-2017 ::

Dream the Quantum Dream

I dream the quantum dream
in another place
Like world events somewhere
are no concern reflected
I feel connected at times
by tears as like bullets
And Jesus come save me
My tears are steam
My heart a scream.
It’s all a dream
It’s all myself
a photographic
dysmorphic laceration
and so I scream.
Born on a way-Station
light-years from you
and blown way down
into your world —
I scream. I scream.
Gentilia your satisfaction
and I’m a vessel for infection
never disregarding intellect
so I scream disregard affection.
And the year is Rooster
and I should know
so now I go — simplicity
is a reason for necessity.
and I scream this is our world.
:: 10-01-2017 ::

VIII

VIII
MELODIES, These songs of life!
that i have watched the sun
sink below my own heart.
i have touched the tears
of the love of my angel
and have ventured up toward
the greenest pastures of all
to find a butterfly resting
upon a fallen tree;  is where
i choose to be my dear.
The moment is quiet and
the hawk screaming
the clouds are roaming
as does this empty soul.
A world upon the perch
of a handheld love
the shadows of sorrow
the mouth encased by
imponderables so.
Dream, dream. And dream.
  Answers within the night,
tears upon the pillow,
  that we all dear fight!
:: 10-01-2017 ::

I have not a Mouth nor a Brain

I have not a mouth nor a brain
and not a body for conveyance
but a thought is mine.

I know many have wondered;
death, death, death —
to what end is finality?

No ending but always as always
beginnings; mostly bright
colors and rushing sounds by.

Not a dream nor a waking moment;
but the in-between compromise
and serenity we go by that way.

The actor releases one costume
then decides upon another persona
and learns lines for the stage.

AND wishing the curtain falls
upon roses and much-desired

applause.

:: 10-01-2017 ::


IV

AND if we dream.
Quietly as though
the babbling brook
demands so.

AND there by the trees
a hobble-knobble
moon goes telling
sweet thoughts.

WITH pine in air
and stiff nipples
expectations like dreams
touching goals.

There are no impossibilities
just fears and blocked roads
by brain we the insane
mostly never overcome.

:: 09-30-2017 ::


III

III

A very busy mind full of broken
shaped happy forgottens
two eyes to see A third
to know

This hand and that tongue
this foot and that lovely
word:

CYNOSURE

IT HAS those many points and
like matrix math it flips/
flops over all other points/
like my thinkingMAYBE
might be a bruise upon
deceptive causes

And those goddamn questions!
poking a calm bed of ants
prickly scalp scratching
ideas LIKE those we all
tuck inside our lower basements
until the snow comes

My fire burns very brightly
to incinerate the weakest won!

 

:: 09- 30-2017 ::


TASTING LAST WORDS

i tasted the last words
just within my mouth
and drawn into this life
where orchestras awaken
blood from death
Walking in muddy boots
across the fields of
the world’s death
i took a breath of life
and saw babies eating
remaining memories
i tasted my last words
just there in my love
and drew conclusions
: love is our life trap
and whatever price
i have is priceless advice:
that love is everything.

:: 09-29-2017 ::


REINCARNATION ALL OVER AGAIN

REINCARNATION helps you
sometimes makes you
feel alive
and sometimes dead
Life can hit you
in the face (oh my)
and memories of youth
are always sometimes
good but now it’s bad
And with lessons to learn
who can keep you in
your seat: maybe now
it’s time to recognize
your brothers & sisters
and now”
we all shout on we
all shout on who
are we <ah!> we’re all
tasting stars and moons
and hugging hearts >
these days are so strange
and everything politicized
forgetting no matter how well
We speak the truth is true
: we are all one.
Oh mama we are all one indeed!
Oh, mama like John said, ”
everyone is high and there’s
UFO’s over New York and I ain’t’
surprised.” Such strange
days indeed!

:: 09-28-2017 ::


EVERY POINT OVERLAPPING EVERY POINT

AND the pot of gold was resting
there by the  contraption of another world
so baby cry, cry, cry and are we old enough
as a world to know baby
  we can cry and laugh holding
planets and stars within our hands
  yes, we are old enough my smiling
baby Jesus’ with a message at the
train station of life and death.
Especially the voices of crying
children who remember to know better
so cry baby we all try to hold on
to the future of our best wishes
and mostly we’re all programmed
by that way-station on the other side;
our hands holding unknown things
our minds almost remembering them
historical amnesia is our diagnosis
so baby cry
            so baby try
                        so my oh my
greed is an infection
muted voices a reflection
and all the tears like metal
the smell of static like space
lost astronauts in twisted steel
and the pot of gold resting there
by the contraption of another world
making my mind scream.
:: 09-28-2017 ::

THERE ARE LARGE HEARTS AND SOME TINY FINGERS

there are large hearts and some
tiny Fingers clasping the
tender petals of teardrops
and if my own mouth large
it would taste and dare eat
the sun gloriously drenched
sanguine-golden promise

vertiginous and spiraling
like as when heads of daisies
by blue winded skies breath
twisting swaying in deep love
is how i think of you my love
is how i know i how’d is
this love more than art!

:: 09-26-2017 ::