Category Archives: #please

EMBERS & STONE

EVERY night of every day i take my love to bed
yea; Leave my heart upon the
dinner plate for the cold
, oh ;
at night its must worse
oh how these lonely tears
fall away screaming
all within silence
So I ask God, “what do i do?”
and listen to the song of
a bird dying each note
all within the long-time
backyard inside my head___
so i’m coming Home now: no need to leave
my heart upon the alter of pain & sorrow.

:: 07.19.2020 ::


RESPONDS TO ALL THREATS

RESPONDS TO ALL THREATS

within THAT part of humanity
that responds to all threats
we tell ourselves: we shall
bury you ; beneath our tears
i scream toward my little boy
run and hide across all
political fences ::we share all
same biology:: regardless of
ideology / if history was
a President there’d be no such
thing as subscribed views |
my sweet butterflies
my royal golden bees
my children are this world
we share such the same
and wishing God too.

:: 07.16.2020 ::


WITHIN THE BUSIED DAISIES

within the daisies
within such fantasy
when i feel like
   feeling (like
feeling)  oh feeling
where can tomorrow go
but to now oh now
and i feel ; feeling
how death begins to
smell Love.

:: 07.14.2020 ::

[based upon a few
popular mega-glyphs
in the now (modern)
world’s mask]


BIRDCAGED WITHIN THIS RUINOUS ESTATE

if the big smirk in the skull
of my mirrors kiss this dirt-death heart /whom everyone
wonders\where did he or she go? i will not have ever loved
one more than you whilst i take the red from within your body;
a hand’s impression is an empty theater without darkness and a
shard of light. i am a shape without the
once-good kissy-lip’d mouth /silver-moon’d anvil striking
spoon collecting the images of one fatal wound/;so much as the dilapidated
heart birdcaged within this ruinous estate!

:: 07.01.2020 ::


tHE LIttLE THINGS That KILL

A Tender b l each e d   s k y
  ooh see the reds & whites
i was not wrong but so further
 from right  (like whatever i do
whatever i do)  what is large tearing
me are THE little things that kill
   THE LITTLE THINGS that kill
i swear  smothering my brain & killing
 my heart and smile —— best to forget
    so winter is SUMMER with you
it’s these smallest little things that kill
   oh kill   oh — touch my mind & lips

:: 06.30.2020 ::


MoMA I CANNOT GIVE MY CHILDREN

MoMA i cannot give my children
away ||| the walls are lonely

crucifixes — flatSURFACES making
tears |/and\| resurgence of

ways i have died. ‘ Simply ‘ is
no word that exists in this

universe, dear. And infinity are
spaces between whole numbers;

ONE s t retched in2 a hope
of reaching outside the caveBONED

life of souls my dear. We only
have each other and my heart

aches i cannot feel any longer
than this:

*

i love you, too.

:: 07-01-2018 ::


Gonzo Poetry

I had run out of it i’m out of it
mind you my mind that ran away
first by feet then by train
paxil was her name a rotundish
hard skinned pink pill of a pimp
so sleeping a tossing flipping
dreaming dream i witnessed a mess
messing up a dream:

this slot of sliced land jutting
with clapboard housing a shouting
with roaches a toasting the best
of a meal they boasted
the strangest of stranglets in
a land of stranger piglets;

two step eddie backed up to a window
owned by a rider, says he with
back to a drive-thru widow, ‘take
this shotgun, won’t need it, take
this broad sword too, and take this
forty-four again won’t need it,
i’ll keep this grenade cause it
needs me more — see that man there
, snagged my lawn cutting his own
, watch me walk over there.

Two-step walks over there and pulls
the pin and once again they do like
they do the owner of that window
was a copy-cop over 44 and says
to eddie, ‘don’t pull that pin you
sons of guns, sons of burning suns!”
Pin pulled, trigger pressed two slugs
in the valley of the deepest cracks
of two buns and all is done.

And the female dog under the oak
toking-tree says to her male friend,
‘your banging will wake up the
recently dead if you don’t stop
banging and start more slapping instead;
no-step eddie tells the devil he
needs to brush his tooth but forgot
his teeth brush under the bush.

Never cold turkey Paroxetine
and slip to sleep on a Monday.

:: 06-26-2018 ::


10:10

I hear they dug up Dali and I’m sure
awaiting in this fact there’s a
hidden joke — but it’s so surreal!

:: 07-22-2017 ::


The Divine Art

Oh! Pain is too easy to portray;
but to transform it into
ART is Divine! ~ EPRobles

:: 09-02-2016 ::

THE PAIR.jpg


AN APPLE FEEL FROM THE TREE (not too far)

CLEARLY is mistaken
vision
and vision clearly
mistaken

M
y
de
epest
thoughts are
how He
abused
His children
and now WE are
a burden.
BYSGODANDHISFIRE
ARE we now
within His mansion?
it has many
rooms.
:: 10182015 ::