Most of my favorite memories
are cast within the daily grind
a trip or two across the way
from morning to evening light
But if I am brave enough to say
and sometimes I am not
(but not today)
the very best of memories
are the ones I make within my dreams
And the rarest of all make their own
:: 06-22-2014 ::
I cannot become but only be
that which is born inside of me
if one should ask that more I be
I politely say I am what I can only-me
a poor character acting human-be
to be the best inside of me
:: 06-22-2014 ::
A dead rose you say?
No such thing!
Perhaps the promise
died —
the rose remains
:: 05-16-2014 ::
seethe creep — my fear!
(less) gimp worm
loss(ness –>) brute
dance leg goat boar
(ness) melt soul || mind ||
how-which lower life
none mind(less) whine
In that asylum called life!
dead life abhor lovers
a frolic acid bath mind!
:: 06-13-2014 :.
tonight the storm
fierce lightning
a thought — struck
and split a tree
that beauty —
deformed
my love — nature
that kills
— what it loves
:: 06-12-2014 ::
I died For you
I lied when I said
I died for you
and loved you
instead of death
I lied for that love
and cried for you
that when I died
when I could not
lay with you
so I died and died
and lied
when I said
I died. For you
men are little boys
wishing for mother
:: 06-18-2014 ::
LIFE!
what death —
THE IMMORTAL LIE
that which dies
not the soul my dear
THE flesh is a skin
human pleasures
A CAGE for the mind
but life! My fireflies
dance incandescent
flower bed scents
but LIFE what death!
broken tooth lie!
we ALL smother
and die a death
simply the skin
but souls prevail
with eyes clearly
bursting truth!
:: 06-20-2014 ::
l. O VE
horror L I. Fe
bl. Eed. Ing. Lips
I. E. At You
that. Animal
pulsing. Bleeding
orchid. Bloom
the Beast taste
My man lips
and teeth devour
you —– bliss kiss
:: 06-19-2014 ::
I did it! I stole the light
That child I am — so
[lay] I did for me
and myself cried
did you feel the river?
I fed it my happy tears
and my child-me ran
we did! Upon the fields
of our-my dreams
and life smelled
like laundry clothed
wind-swept dried souls
: 06-20-2014::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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