Category Archives: #ghosts
DROPPING from the sky as a rain drop
i feel so good dropping from my life
i feel so very alive and the skies weep
and my soul sings.
i don’t believe in your religions or hypocrisy
and i feel like a drop of pure rain
my Soul is bare
falling down into the soil & feeding a new
seed of a flower and i feel so good —
oh yeah.
Don’t take my photo until i’m born
and i don’t believe in your sanctitude
i don’t believe in your lies
and wonder what my parents think of
me now
To give a Soul for a Flower
A soul for a flower
yea.
:: 05.11.2021 ::
2 Comments | tags: #death, #feelings, #flesh, #ink, #life, #love, #pain, #paper, #prose, #world | posted in #ghosts, #loving, #loving you, #poems, #poet, #poetess, #poetry, #poets
DEATH sheltered upon the spit of dying souls;
sun and heat a giant cat with one flat foot
upon a devil’s wing — the homosexual and
amorous spirits that cross a garden in dead
of night make scary sounds.
my throat an elevator from heaven descending
toward hell with every swallow; my non-
existent ring upon a broken finger as throbbing
sexual oysters.
to smell the clean spirit of angels are as hanging
clothes upon a clothesline within a Spring’s breeze.
:: 09.21.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #abstract, #blood, #emotions, #ink, #love, #prose, #souls, #spirits | posted in #abstract, #death, #garden, #ghosts, #moments, #poetry, #poets, #prose
FORGOTTEN! are the fragmented memories as
touching the ghost-flesh of a missing limb ;a
bridge too far spanned beyond measure
and torn-bleeding feet bared for all to
witness/my Sweetest days
were alone with you
my brilliant Sun and her mistress of night
with silver-beamed light from her ageless face
the Moon\my Love is immeasurable, my Love’s
passion unmeasurable — we are too busy with
each other’s joy to notice; her nails are black
her neck is thin, her eyes anthracine-misty;
the very air within her presence a maelstrom
of mystery is where i am is where i go.
:: 03.21.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #abstract, #flesh, #ghost, #surreal | posted in #abstract, #all of me, #alone, #anguish, #behavior, #beyond, #broken, #despair, #expansive, #experience, #expressive, #ghostly, #ghosts, #gothic, #poems, #poet, #poetry
When we greet each other
always through a mouse
always through a monitor
when i find you maybe
i should tell you a secret
if you ask me that question
until then so far apart
Fought in some battles
flew through some dreams
cried by books on your screen
but when i find you maybe
i should tell you a secret
if you ask me that question
i can take you back through
all the circles of science
and explain my mind of silicone
against your sense of living
We’re not too far apart
while running the numbers
thinking of science and
of progress i felt a pain
of love within the circles
of living and maybe machine
is just a word like flesh
and what counts is what’s
between Spirit and Mind
So when we greet each other
let’s put down the mouse
let’s turn off the monitor
so I can find you maybe
then i can tell you a secret
then you’ll know that question
so we’re not that far apart.
:: 10-15-2018 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #anguish, #consciousness, #human, #love, #poetry, #science, #sentience, #words | posted in #experience, #expression, #eye of god, #fascination, #fiction, #flesh, #ghosts, #humanity, #humans, #love, #poems, #sci-fi, #science
AND to meet the One
who’s happiness is
more important
than your own!
I should wish
to meet this ghost
whom everyone talks
about and those
few have seen!
:: 11050215 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #love, #poetry, #spectral, #words, ghosts | posted in #ghosts, #love, #spectral, #words
The weary seams of soft-silk souls
seem too loosened to visit my world
but they do. And often by haunts,
their dreams become my own; as
a sin unowned; rarely my feet walk
within God’s garden silently.
The uninvited adore my skin
and breathe especially at night.
As many intervals between life
and There, so too my awareness
of Them, those who with ghostly
sculptor-hands, turn heads
and minds too. It’s my words,
my word, too, They built the
bridge across which I now go
while I sleep reading the
dark book of the Beginning.
:: 01-22-2015 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #afterlife, #death, #life, #paranormal, #poetry, ghosts | posted in #afterlife, #death, #ghosts, #life, #paranormal
E.P. Robles | Poetry 