WHAT does it mean when the Sun strikes a thought
within One’s Soul? This i ponder while i walk
the path called Life. What of the thousands of
screams, untold broken dreams and weeping expecting
mothers? Do you remember them? Your mother, sister,
brother or father perhaps forgot to say, “I love you”
or the county clown made you shed tears when you were
eight.
Today I am walking down a path as the Sun strikes into
my Soul; spits them out as words___.
:: 05.10.2020 ::
we skip across the fence
beyond the WHEN
to Know what we are Doing
forgiving Light a Due
i cannot say this is truth
but suspect that light
whispers to the brain
after all is said & done.
:: 05.04.2020 ::
That heart my butterfly!
Today I felt your wings
with the clasp-prose
of your loving Mind!
And we licked the pollen
sugar-lips of our souls
and flew off into
Life’s Unknown!
:: 08-23-2014 ::
rev: 05032020
HAVE you never
ever walk
-ed the edge of
fields so yellow
they smell of Gold?
–the wheat fields
of Vincent Van Gogh
he was a bastard
to most but greatly
to ‘self’ –>kill
the personality
but never the Art
nor the Soul
:: 04.29.2020 ::
little figurei beg of you
find our way home
it is no tHing to concern yourself
: and all your Youth & beauty
: little fingers play\
the score of forgetting
/ and now. YOu face eternal
time: come here. Now. &
forgive yourself.
:: 04.22.2020 ::
It’s a complicated world
ruled by pain and fear
Everything’s ‘will you swim
or will you fade’
the smallest things
hold us back
the madness outside
these walls
are nothing compared
to what’s within my halls
Brain traffic: s/o confused
grid-locked & neurotically fused
Drain my Soul
Brain traffic: over/used
fear-porn-fed till your dead
then Life’s on hold
it’s all Inside your head
BRAIN DEAD.
:: 03.27.2020 ::
the mouthOFnoise eats the silence;
everywhere NOise!)turns my insides(
out/-of Tears i said to the mother
holding empty children’s shoes
EyesofSorrow drowns her sight:
only to eternally see all horror
with sightless eyes that diligently
cry-/i once had a great Love that died
the Ghosts of
Antikythera’s Cell Machines burn
the sharp edge of decaying reality;laboriously
the longest Legs of Time march forth as it
steps over my shortest Thoughts within the
MOUTH)of(NOISE
:: 03.26.2020 ::
a creeping chill throws me cold: t he
skies have t urn SEPIA AND i completely
utterly melt into each word
birth’d — this elegie betrays the poet;
a confession unburdens the Spirit — you
are reading about the me of ‘i’ have always
loved you |mia /i shall meet you again to-now
within the theater of my Soul sure, sometimes
i have concern for the world as it continues
to devour my Feelings and sensibilities.
when can i love you again?
:: 03.24.2020 ::
 | 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 
You must be logged in to post a comment.