Category Archives: Poetry

THE DATE

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i had a date
once a while ago
and we drank
and smoked
and ran the talk
in the end
she said
you’re f*cking crazy
so we left
and the road
sucked us up

and I fled
|
|
V
below the dirt
and found a gem
a crystal skull
full of hope

:: 02-06-2014 ::


SELF-SIMILAR

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(c) E.P. Robles 2012

my self-similar self
nestled within myself
so similar to someone
who resembles myself
such fecal fractal
maddening crap
prevents me so
I may never learn
where lay my soul

:: 02-06-2014 ::


SCORNED

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(c) E.P. Robles 2013

SCORNED for beauty
that mark of desire
a sentence served
until old age reprieve
To carry this burden
unjust for those
The only crime committed
— at birth

:: 02-06-2014 ::


LITTLE VOICE

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(c) E.P. Robles 2012

LITTLE voice speak to me
refrain not from truth
gently whisper what’s to be
I have no other council
save the trees that sway-speak
or mocking birds who sing
My mouth shut and heart open
and do walk in my forest light
Here upon this grand rock
I patiently wait for your wisdom
so speak to me as I will listen

:: 02-06-2014 ::


GRAND THING

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(c) E.P. Robles 2012

WHERE is that grand thing
so elusive the unicorn doubts
and rainbow would walk in arch
and bee turn blood to honey
if it come to visit one day
Love eludes me my gentle one
delay your departure my heart
Faith is my rock and I hold it
it’s weight too heavy to move

:: 02-06-2014 ::


THE OLDER TIME

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(c) E.P. Robles 2012

WHAT do I miss of the older time
before the buzz and dizzy busy?
A quaint moment throughout the day
one of clarity and not dismay
When a walk meant a conversation
between my feet and cobblestone
And a tip of my hat to passerby
was just a kind and noble gesture
What do I miss of the older time…
a sense of sanity and kind humanity

:: 02-06-2014 ::


CREATIVE PAST

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(c) E.P. Robles 2013

LISTEN to the radio on the AM dial
what you hear isn’t prefab noise
but the crackle of creative past
You say the past is fogey old
but the juice was sweet and new
and gave us the best of music
Good-chu-ku-ku-ku
didn’t you know
Dickinsonian cool
I sit on a Monet stroke
swimming in the Lillie’s
a bridge in the willows
What we wish catching
a filament on a egg shell
and you’re crying
Boo-hoo-a-hoo!
We all want to sleep
but the pea is a giant
and the princess is dancing
I’m crying
so sore thigh
bruised from love

:: 02-04-2014 ::


DREAM POLICE

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(c) E.P. Robles – 2013

SLEEPING I dreamed I had a wardrobe
and there were every kind of costume,
each one for the fantasy of life.
But the police cuffed my hands
saying, “Don’t you know kind sir,
we control the fate of humanity.”
The dream police took me away,
saying there’s no court for my offense
and they threw me back into the cell
where waking people sit and wait,
hoping of a life where they can dream too.

:: 02-04-2014 ::


GRAVITY

WHAT pull that magical force
that keeps our feet upon the ground
I surmise the same…
that which makes us fall in love

:: 02-0-2014 :


LIVING IS FOR THOSE

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(c) E.P. Robles 2011

And when did you forget
living is for those
that trust feelings

      and shed a tear or two
      the fields are dry
      and the crows cry

     scare be that heart
           a husk bleached bone
      one never owned

     it is the end of winter
     and I fear your Spring
     more than late in coming

:: 02-05-2014 ::