AND if you are repulsed
by my humanity
then clearly I say
you are not
— meant for me
My sanity
— no latitude
for your brain-vessel
to navigate across
my ocean-emotions
Chart your course
away from my shores
and bidding farewell
— I do eagerly —
to the storms of your mind
::01-16-2014::
THE emotional dimension
— most interesting
a part of the human-animal
a landscape built on perception
the landfill —
of revelations | experiences
beauty and truth and joy-pain
These nuances
constitute the human-experience
do beat down
such dark hole
some call depression
— spiritual malaise
threatens to eat us alive
::07/07/2014::
IT was with a bang
that first I heard
I thought a sparrow
— had hit the house
My sorrow for the sparrow
— so immense
The second bang shook my soul
surely a quake that rocked my world
My fears for the township
— so profound
The third and last
tore through my heart
and brought me back
— to my senses
as the firing squad
— completed their task
::01-06-1214::
MY one and only
great indulgence
not of liquor
or consuming food
but the air I breath
— the sun I see
Simple and pleasant
such is living life
the great indulgence
a song that some
choose to dance
with partner or alone
::01/05/2014::
AND when I walked
the path toward the light
and you said that I could not see
what you meant was nothing darkness
and in the light I knew your heart
it was made of clay and dirt
and in this dirt you woke me up
and I saw the light within you
and we made the world into this rock
and so we reap now what we sow
Who will see the light within this darkness
who will make some sense of this?
I can only hope for light and love
and love is what we need this day
You will see light in the darkness
you will make some sense of this
and in the morning when you awaken
there will be a butterfly for you
Who will see the light within the dark
can you take this staff of light
and make it yours to remake this world?
I give you the dream of living life
::01-02/2014 ::
WHEREBY it may be declared
that mysticism is union
or absorption into that Diety
of knowledge barred
by the intellect…
I do contemplate
nay — surrender
that my character-soul
dreamy thunder-confusion
understands — and knows
The ultimate reality
is more than mere words
practised by unknowns
incomprehensible to minds
but deeply known
Feelings, intuition
beneath the bedsheets
of mistress-whole-mindness
::P::
AND in the land there be images
such an imprint of days before
a photograph of moving pictures
The thread of reality weaving
both emotion and image into one
a blueprint of what was before
We clean the slate with time
but the eye sees the state of order
and beneath the lie — therein lies
Psychic mind rest your thoughts
the gift of sight can make you blind
to the world from which you were born
:::::
MY reproduction of love
so precise in detail
your sister distorted
intentionally ordered
Some say you are a fake
but truth becomes your right
in hyperreal distortion
I claim you as my own
Millennium have tried
to reproduce true nature
but in my century of pose
such claims took hold
Sorrowful metallic tears unfold
— facing naked prejudice
life is complete! — besides
composition of carbon or steel
You live but don’t breath
and eat but don’t thirst
and sleep but don’t dream
complete me you complete you
Some have asked a famous line:
do androids dream
of electric sheep
yes and more — such is love
:::::
I REFRAIN from the thought
that death of love is for naught
that shores ebb away
from the tides of luna
All without meaning or thought
Let me dream of a reason
if I may have eons to think
that logic dictates feeling —
tears are salt and not honey
Is life bitter or death sweet?
— // —
A LINGERING indecision laid bare…
and morning sighed with me beside
an internal debate flees — asylum
With turmoil between fret and fear
So I decide…
A narrow splinter jiggles in the mind
Like how someone treated me – a wreck;
Love, like us, a barren and somber alter
Without her triptych
And questions remain…
:::::
 | EPRobles on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
 | Adam Fisher on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
| EPRobles on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
 | R. Marshall on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
 | Stefan on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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