THAT tear i wish to be
so pure a true drop-see
an innocent expression from me
made peace sad apple bite
my heels; burned in stiletto
but my dress falls neatly
a walk from here
to –> there
And ageless tears see
each frame-flash desired
a numbWe mySoul be
a l w a y s!
I wish a rain to dance within
just me and cloud-thunder
that only an Eye-God sees
What I am inside always!
:: – ::
Lost my way writing words
on my way back to life
all alone with the One
so exhausted with none
I am so surprised
no suicide
I’m strapped in a chair
with a hanging light bulb sun
and the leather upon my wrists
so tight like honey bees
stinging all the dreams of
my life: I’m just a poet
of silver dreams weeping
and half alive with an empty
gun so I use a pencil to
stab life with all my
empty words
A silver tongue that no one
loves so I write words to
awaken me from my dream
of lonely fields
silver dreams weeping
half alive with an
empty gun
::-::
have you seen
the giant-small?
it lives in glass
and sleeps in dirt
one to show
the other to hurt
have you seen
the giant-small?
it lives in love
and sleeps in gold
one to hug
the other to hurt
::-::
Skittles rolling across the road
all the colors of a rainbow
blue beetles climbing
all the muttering way into
a chasm of my asphalt heart
A hawk upon a slender pole
evolutionary eyes tearing
souls apart — SQUAWK!
A white line fever keeps me
away on a long road into the
forevermore and I cry…
I cry…within a nest where
she threw my eyes|| it’s
easy to see without eyes
it’s easy to breath without life
so easy to be simply broken
all apart
:: 06-19-2015 ::
A silver snail gone to hell
light bulb sun!
If you say that you love me
then we’re done!
Took the manna from the sky
and made a doll
It’s just like you so pretty
And all the righteous ones
sing and weep
and the doll dances
such a super natural feast!
:: 06-19-2015 ::
THE moon pies in your mouth make sweeter
kisses as you lose weight
and you said, “Art, let’s go to the
museum, I wanna hang you on the wall
cause I need to criticize you then leave
you for the other critics of life”
And like the gills and fins of
dying creatures called poets;
fishing for all the right words
so relaxing to bait another hook
with syntax by the ocean eating me
I wear the language necklace of hearts
within a never-existed lesson in love
:: 06-17-2015 ::
AS a heartbeat
I heard a voice
and the voice had a sound ; like
a song of something: words?
And the words were entwined
in a sticky glue some may say
are feelings and the fire-tips
of those dancing flames had
a weight called emotion
and the emotion was like
gravity next to a black hole
and the black hole was inside
a cave of bone called Mind!
:: 06-17-2015 ::
I like the smell of art and the walls of museums
taste like the last kiss that broke my heart
discarded hearts inside
the highness of pain
We walk across the color
of the ancient blood
dripping dried souls
so many canvas’ of…ha ha…
and your flesh mixed the thought-wolf hungry
libido of my own art it’s forever until
I have another chance and it hurts, too much
pressure so, like now depressed compressed
breasts and hips and butterfly cups overfilled
by the sun-horror of life
Art. Madness. Words.
Expressive untaxed product
until it’s sold to the world
NEVER! NEVER! OH, NEVER!
FOREVER!!!
:: 06-18-2015 ::
oh Royal Blue above
all of us, loved
oh golden soil below
that souls kiss
and all of all of you
so preciously a gift
that souls should know!
I sing with silent voice
and feel with shout!
And dance the birth
of life in every moment
this life should give
to me; today tomorrow
yesterday and after
;thoughts of you
my Royal Blue above
my golden soil below
the world is a meal!
the soul a hungry mouth!
the heart a dish to hold
this thing we call life!
::; 06-13-2015 ::
LOVE! ; YES I am parts
but One of Someone’s
own heart; my head
apart from the rest
and thankfully myt
soul exists ELSEWHERE
; doubt say you?
come here
see me here and somewhere
else –> there and there!
my thoughts idle horizontally
worthless self in particularly
essence of what I, We, and ARE
the monster of that mad man!
06-13-2015 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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