The royal lover in colors comes this way today,
with sweets and cool kisses
by widened streets; swept clearly away
by preceding reputation.
Oh mother what nature!
Your pallet bleeds my soul
and brush HeartStrokes
across my passionSpirit!
:: 09-13-2014 ::
\W H I L E we fall deeply into Life as towers
falling high
with hope of love and sugar emotions
angels behind following our trail of spirit
you and me belong to us at the height of
golden days underneath silver rain and timeless
— extensive nights and days of suddenly heard.
look and we see –> a great dampness
of soft silky memories while time burns our
skin and memories.
A serenade of Life.
:: 09.19.2020 ::
IF you asked me to use your love
tonight by sunlight or by fallen
night, i could not do so;
while my flesh is hungry for you
my Soul and Mind respects the
Light of your Heart.
and as your breasts heave
with lust, i cannot forsaken
the trust i have with my own
heart.
If by nocturnal influence,
the strongest of ferocious urge,
my gaze upon your tender twin legs,
(i mount and mouth in bites the moist
stars of your two eyes)
While my manly chest presses against
your tender female heart; for the ocean
and for the sun’s depth — all of you
is destined for the plow.
i do not shy away but respect
you. when you have come up for air
we shall talk. Until then, my amorous one,
the moon’s tender light ignites your large
expecting eyes.
:: 09.19.2020 ::
if you walk with me disregard the dead souls
walking along with me
they impart delicious thoughts of their past
and give me unsolicited guidance. i will show
you my dark secrets if you walk with them and me.
the leviathan of life has a gaping mouth that
eats all things beautiful: hint — all living
things are beautiful forever.
forever.
and i am tired of being accused of being
homosexual: i would rather be bisexual so it
opens the field wide. so beyond soft-liness
than screaming more sing
:: 09.17.2020 ::
if i had two hearts;
one for your soul
the other for your beauty
if i were a farmer
i would tend to a garden
and gather today’s eggs
but as a broken-hearted
poetry i till words – so
excuse me;
you see, i am not here
nor there — and the worse
feeling is planting Love
and nothing Grows.
:: 09.17.2020 ::
“i will not be that way, ” i said.
as she took hostage my heart.
“I will not be that way, ” i begged.
as she kissed my soul.
but for you i shall turn the stars
around and move the oceans i declared.
i do not love your beautiful face.
i do not love your curvaceous body.
i love your feet as they brought you
here toward me. And now i enjoy
your mind and through it all things
you are.
:: 09.17.2020 ::
A PALE SOFTISH ROUND COFFIN
SKIN can make me cry as roses. Scents of a female? for i do forget
spoken clearly; i am not afraid of death but life.. to have control
means relenting focus for a perfect soul. my questions are purely
my own as though if i ask, ‘what has become of you?’ the world may
never know but i am here. my heart is a shape of a pale softish
round coffin yet to be buried within your mind.
:: 09.17.2020 ::
the carnival-like brass band
performing songbird miracles
of you, worn within my heart
all life; never quitting
until dead
sunrises as torn muscles
amorous and petting a cat
that adores thoughts
through the crack of heaven
i slid toward burning hell
all my thoughts —
and now fate kisses me and
we love each other is called
Life.
:: 08.17.2020
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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