Category Archives: #afterlife
There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say
You remain my power, my pleasure, my pain
To me you’re like a growing addiction that I can’t deny
Now won’t you tell me, is that healthy, baby?
Now won’t you tell me, is that healthy, baby?
My power and my pleasure; an addiction…
So “God is here, with you, and in you.”
There is a supreme and infinite pleasure that fills your heart.
Some languages of love will only permit love as a verb or simply a noun.
You are part of everything; you are not separate from anything.
Everything is part of you; you are part of everything; you are not
separate from anything.
So, i am and should fall large and in light that you shine,
can you see me? So baby, I compare you to a kiss from a dream
i live every day.
You may feel your experience of the world is disjunctive – somehow
disconnected. What is the actual nature of our existence? Is it
static, or in constant flux?
Maybe that is just your individual perception.
But we can try to figure it out by seeing how things affect us
This path we choose is about learning how to communicate effectively
with what we find, giving it meaning, and acting in ways that contribute.
If we are engaged in the pursuit of love in a real, open and collaborative way,
we can witness how relationships change and grow.
We may start with a story, but we are essentially learning how to be a partner.
We can see in our interactions how we are unbalanced, not yet aware that we need to change.
Over time, we discover what we are trying to hide, and begin to open up in our relationships.
The inner change begins with our hearts!
:: 01.06.2021 ::
1 Comment | tags: #crushed, #ink, #love, #lover, #poetry, #ragged clothes, #ragged men, #romance, #soull, #strangers, #truth, #words | posted in #aching, #adult, #afterlife, #alone, #alter, #angels, #angst, #Apocalypse, #art, #belief, #poems, #poet, #poetess, #poetry, #poets
WHEN the sky came down // when the wind left and the
oceans drained \ when the righteous sang, “by god.”
WE saw the creatures of life running to and fro
and saw how the machine held our hearts and eyes —
in chains.
When the sky came down.
when the night wept,
when the eyes of all creatures cried:
they hid from a perfect storm.
Everyone ran fron the wars and left the
desloation of Nations — when the purple
color and red became day when love screamed
we cried…for a god that never came.
Now, afterward we live life in the drifting horror
of dust and sand.
From the cruelty that defines
the small mouths of what humans are: let it be known
when the sky came down when the sun went away
and the Earth screamed and those who claimed
in God’s name he’ll save our skin; the light
burned our sight and killed our kin.
When the sky came down/ when the sun went dark\
and the universe wept and the righteous sang
to a dead god — we survived. Again.
:: 10.11.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #ink, #poetry, #prose, #sci-fi, #science | posted in #afterlife, #Ages, #anguish, #astronomy, #beauty, #lost, #please, #poems, #poet, #poetess, #poetry
FILTHY pieces
of long-forgotten
thoughts i remember
i forgot to keep it
all far inside the die’
ist part of my vibrant
HEART-flower and sometimes
i looked within your heart-
shaped Soul so fragile and
Evil: i ate you all
makes The Tablet by
the firey finger-tips
of my mind : i have never
said go -and-die /you’re alive
| gathering sheep and smelling
fresh air i tripped over mySelf |
its an illusion called
Life — Hey! WAIT! i have a
message /you invited\ …
confusion!\
:: 07.22.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #bois, #forever, #ink, #intellectual, #more, #poetry, #poets, #sad, #sit, #so, #there, #wake up | posted in #1900s, #1970, #abstract, #abuse, #aching, #afterlife, #Ages, #aphasia, #bees, #belief, Uncategorized
no need
for military solutions/police
::please oh please::
the holy church ___
if we say this first, ”
if i ever lost faith within Life
i lose faith in YOU
oh yeah, within you & me FAITH
so say this and much worse
we drink the water of Life
(oh look oh there she goes
i stared within a greatest sunshine)
no need
for poets, artists nor me —
I closed my eyes to EXIST.
:: 07.16.2020 ::
no need to eat politicians
if the world has faith in
dough
Leave a comment | tags: #baby, #brain, #forever, #glow, #heaven, #ink, #my head, #pencil, #poetry, #prose, #walls, #youth | posted in #1700s, #1800s, #1900s, #1970, #4:20, #a hundred poems, #abstract, #abuse, #aching, #adult, #afterlife, #alter, #aphasia, #Apocalypse, #apocalyptic, #bees, #Beethoven
RESPONDS TO ALL THREATS
within THAT part of humanity
that responds to all threats
we tell ourselves: we shall
bury you ; beneath our tears
i scream toward my little boy
run and hide across all
political fences ::we share all
same biology:: regardless of
ideology / if history was
a President there’d be no such
thing as subscribed views |
my sweet butterflies
my royal golden bees
my children are this world
we share such the same
and wishing God too.
:: 07.16.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #authors, #common sense, #editors, #ideology, #ignorant, #ink, #leaders, #poet, #poets, #political, #president, #prose, #publishers, #science, #toy | posted in #1700s, #1800s, #1900s, #1970, #4:20, #a hundred poems, #abstract, #aching, #adult, #afterlife, #Ages, #all of me, #all we are is all we are, #please, #poems, #poet, #poetess, #poetry, #poets
i was seemingly me: walking down the plank
boards of society: nothing glows brighter than
bitter symphony awakened to the
light of love ==
i can hear the most
i can change the most
So i praised the long journey
believing everything so finished
so its just the beginning
NEVER saying what i hear from the woods
/seeds of birth\
i have never died an unlived life
Cherubs eating orchid flowers
bizardley arranged : i shall never
draw aside the veil of love,
TO BE UNDERSTOOD
is greatering than understanding
:: 07.15.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #abstract, #ink, #life, #loving, #new, #poetry, #prose, #words | posted in #1700s, #a hundred poems, #aching, #adult, #afterlife, #Ages, #akashic, #all of me
i have walked within your
thunderstorms & broken nails
upon the wood of your maple
casket — makes me sad
called a dove the vulture of
all hearts (oh my)
hauled dirty stares within
the sack of my brain we all
refrain from bruised egos OH HEY
says the middle finger of my MOUTH
you can only lose
what you never had
and i broke nails
trying to pull Jesus
from his Cross//+\\
:: 03.11.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #devils, #expressive, #fear, #gods, #hurt, #insanity, #lust, #thoughts, #unknown | posted in #abstract, #aching, #afterlife, #Ages, #alone, #analysis, #angels, #anguish, #apocalyptic, #art, #artists, #attic, #awaken, #beyond, #big question, #dreams, #emotions, #enormity, #epochal, #eternal
No longer a thought
within my brain,
the mortician lay me
down to sleep
a scream i refrained
surfaced as white
within my eyes
that none had bought
my vitals he checked
and thumped my nose
as a creep
then:
a bath and massage
no dance but song
two strong hands
then set my face
arterial embalming
then drain/eject
it’s all the same
the cavity —
aspirate and concentrate
The humming thrumming
burning desire
escaped as soon as with
a pop I fled my skin
and faced the choice
to do it once again.
:: 10-23-2018 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #death, #ink, #life, #mortician, #poetry, #processes, #reincarnation, #words | posted in #afterlife, #broken poetry, #life, #life and death, #stages of life and death, Reincarnation, Uncategorized
The town buried her beneath peach-red skies: less than several days ago.
All the while in the distance, gravel-filled caws in the distance measured a
thickness of time; the casket lid, rained with tears, sank beneath Earth’s longest wave.
Everyone had dirt under their nails and a heavy weight of guilt. Then,
at night on the 1st of May she returned to town on an errand so vital
that she had come unannounced and entered
into the cafe where she last had cried– while holding the hand of her lover,
she sat down at the chair with red eyes and again watched her fiancé bleed
from a wound within his head; his blue sapphire eyes melting as their dying hearts.
THE gunman was wrestled to the ground
on top of a love poem she
had penned to her fiancé . In part it read:
“The town buried her beneath peach-red skies…”
:: 04-25-2018 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #afterlife, #death, #love, #poem, #poetry, #words | posted in #afterlife, #beyond the grave, #broken hearts, #love, #story
Your Jesus likes
lollipops
the walking King
on the boulevard
of spiritual dreams
and i licked sticks
like the wooden
cross across life
Oh Mohammad too,
who knows where he’s
taking me — somewhere
I want to be like
my best friend
And religion is a sidewalk
with many souls
walking the path
towards their dreams
of an afterlife
so I’m taking my
best friend
She knows my buttons
pushing love and
all of my life
IT’S where i want to be;
me and my best friend
:: 02-15-2015 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #abstract, #afterlife, #beliefs, #dream, #fear, #Jesus, #mohammad, #poetry, #religion | posted in #abstract, #afterlife, #beliefs, #dream, #fear
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
You must be logged in to post a comment.