THESE SIMPLE NIGHTS are
simple dreams
if you are going to
dreamland take parsley
,sage and a white candle
and remember those you
left behind: they were once
the best friends in love
tell her to meet me outside
by the deep forest green —
express the light and spirit
i once felt when she first kissed
me there. A scarlet mark upon
my heart and Life which I shall
wear with honor for the true love
of mine.
:: 07.23.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #EPRobles, #face, #in the afternoon, #ink, #making love, #paper, #peace, #poetry, #prose, #saying, #words | posted in #1800s, #bacon, #bone, #communication, #dawn, #epochal, #fields, #funeral, #historians, #illusion, #lego, #luna, #moles eating socks, #Oksana, #philosophy, #queer, #scrabble, #sleep, #spirit, #taker, #vampire, #writing
The morning’s yawn is street-like sounds after
pre-dawn rains. I remove the stems of my waking
body from bed. This day the sun is a lazy un-
procured star that hasn’t yet met her bride but
the horizon hides hungrily behind the promise
of a martial morning. Yet again, today I divorce
last night’s dreams from today’s wakeful place.
:: 03-18-2015 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #dawn, #life, #poetry, #thoughts | posted in #dawn, #life, #thoughts
E.P. Robles | Poetry 