I hold little value for time
these days when I am always
writing. Compressed into
a vacuum of love and past life!
I do rarely know what I scribe —
automaton are we, many minds!
But each poem is a life I love
when I write. I die each night
and the beauty of resurrection
my each morning!
:: 10-23-2014 ::
The enormous crowd of my secret thoughts
knocked upon the door-soul of my heart
Just today, absent any butler
I had to answer — I saw his coattails
fleeing summer that was my butler.
And the face of the door smiled
but the knob too hot to hold
and my feet a pool of cold sweat
knowing my thoughts that revisit today.
I only had — wished I had, a new thought
but could only feel the deepening dread.
And the door opened…
:: 10-20-2014 ::
We are comforted within my skin
the pillow-clouds of revelation,
by self and ‘me’ are easy on us.
The ugly scars of life my lips.
The bruised heart my portrait
for the blooming fields of love.
We are comforting within this skin.
The hands calloused by lying souls,
my self and ‘we’ are this grip,
that no strongest wind can break.
We are the verified self.
:: 10-20-2014 ::
willow-scent
emotionally
dispensed by my
day of enormity
My hand I gave
but not touched
never and forever
this horror aches
and reasons bleed
like heartHole Me
I must be this
terrible monster!
:: 10-17-2014 ::
My sun risen, my reason!
My heart my season!
Where love lives
by Spirit and Heart!
My lover my soul!
By meaing by life!
My children
my world!
By God!
:: 10-09-2014 ::
Too long I’ve lived
Too much I’ve seen
Too brief my love
Too little by seam
That moments alone
seem eternal by soul
And witness, my heart
Too brief my love,
this dream called Life
:: 10-11-2014 ::
That thing which thirsts
by and by mostly, i found
upon a day’s journey
The quench he burst
while i listened
to his wisdom-words
and i had no thing
within my pockets
So i told him ‘my
apologies’ —
He took my soul
within his hands
so carefully kissed,
and all within me
a glitter-gold
he did disburse
If you look for life
just remember my friend
a richer one unrehearsed!
:: 10-11-2014 ::
When assassins cry
they run —
hiding within the city,
with white-flags hung
And the banner-regret
furloughed by tears
and storms
torn out like hair
and tears like diamonds
cutting through flesh
— i’ve seen tougher
souls, some men —
in any country everywhere
And kill or be killed
the anthem of death
sung by the lone assassin
Armed yourself you betray
the one who loves you —
she wears the red dress
to cover the color blood
Arm yourself and betray
goodwill should life die
and you cry and run
Hiding within the city
with white-flags hung
and the banner-regret
furloughed by tears
and storm —
torn out like hair
and tears like diamonds
cutting through your flesh
You know my heart and you
hate the target I placed
upon your heart —
you took a chance and now
no one can save you
A white-flag hung for you
are you willing to die?
:: 10-09-2014 ::
She, deep star as though
silence listened — far, afar…
bassLevel destruction slick
which we cannot see stand
the million-year labor like
indolent dreams…
and Majesty’s slick-finger
trigger-killing tragedy
kissing the golden tongue
of the smooth voice-fantasy
Opened doors a path-easy
for corner-cutting fools
what mama said, “Dirty-money
only buys the lies…”
and a broken heart,
We choose our ways
and die fulfilled
keeping lies next
to our soul — just another way
yeah, another way we choose to die
:: 10-09-2014 ::
I, my love–> err, too!
the dream! dreaming soothes
seemingly! time choose;
luster0rough and dry
and blue (who knew),
one last green wishing
parchment paper stained,
tearing tearing years
that touch yellow-gray
my heart so violet!
smelling wombDirt
in casted SunBlue,
chasing grayClouds
umbeled by beeBe too!
And goldenDisc rim-breasts
pathetic InkStain Paper
rejoicing in your Grace
The ballerina of mySoul
:: 10-09-2014 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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