i dream in prose
my mind the inkwell
my life the quill
(so human)
i suppose the unreal
until and i feel
a certain disregard
here…
Until she; the waking
dream, comes to me with
a song
within her bosom
until then and then
i write my prose
(to the world) with
mind and suppose the unreal
until and i feel.
:: ~~ ::
A tree in my head produced
leaves of words //green”
\\ OOH if “if” is a rotten
twig squeaking against
bobbing winds —
characters should & best
be surviving a hundred
years at least.
at least (as long as i
think) for as long as
i’m here!
:: 03-25-2016 ::
sECOND aFTER SeCOND
does anybody care?
He is the poet
upon the hill
with the moon
suducing him
And all day this
man of a thousand
voices took in
the sun to forgive
the horizon and how
the moon is as eyes
in his head
Oh, oh oh oh oh!
Precious lady do not
cry BEcause my blood
approves and so perfect
-ly still And the best
of my Soul is within my
heart fluttering brain
broken thoughts is the
man of a thousand
voices but no one ever
hears him like the
fun waxing and the
sun going down.
:: 03-25-2016 ::
so you left a note (that) hung
upon the air
magically floating in the air
i tore it down with my tears
where nothing is a particular thing
and it cuts my heart reading you –>
you’ll never see the courage
that i have shown today;
it burned the world within my heart
and how the devil has a summer house
as bright as a star — All within
the space of a few hours
life and death — rebirth became
a furious fire. Goodbyes are a
promise, dear. And for the strong
souls — only said once.
:: ~ ::
A wonderful simulation of love
— the hot-blooded woman
who c raves love and bitterness;
does/do-dove flutter wings?
(more and more like voices dying)
and i am so each reason for
love always.
Must be a strange excitable
ritual that shelters fear.
But you, you are simply my
own blindness. Yes, it does,
it remains and keeps me
out of your momentarily ‘IF’
I were invited to attend.
I am so happy to be strangely
excited to be here in your realm
of a Kingdom that hands a heart
(love speaks my life) love
but you are so alone I
should invite you (i deeply
appreciate filling in the gaps)
in uncharted territories and
and i think it would be nice
to go away. . . into the night.
:: 11062015 ::
IN my highness of life —
mowered down lilies
and spoke,
“sheriff, i betrayed
those roots in fear
again, we were friends.”
AND moses gave them
a blow of angel’s weed
like pets getting high
like nature: a whore
silently shinning upon
a tiny tree and i’m the
green leaf
And living is no single
thing daring party seen
i love myself and
never abuse my Soul
just my heart and my head
i’m a leaf within a tree
with a thick trunk and
the deepest roots
heaven moves stars
and i’m so loved by
the soil in my heart
i won’t complain
i won’t complain
:: 10242015 ::
Your lips are opened where i dream
expansive fields of tulips kissing
wonderment And eyes as pools of
yet fallen rains Your heart beating
peace smiling at little things / as me
deeper than the mystery of life
-searched a loving heart grows
that majestic wing of butterflies
goes into /oVER golden cusp’d
fields with life’s razor-edge gleam
and gloom ‘bursting cloud/RAins
wet our feathered heads within our
nest, which no eye of human can see
‘Tis invisible silence, respecting
unknown artists
:: 09172015 ::
so buttercup crushed by Giant foot
weep weep weep for weeks
the gentle Giant of the Forrest
it’s so sad to pretend we are so
assured — moth butterfly hum bird
mushroom human creature
oh! Oh! Human stay away
so lose baby sweet-eye
breath smile tiny-fist against
strange impressions
i parted gift i express forgiveness
a contagious here we are now
a sharp laugh of thorn love
a warm hand friendly holding
‘we’re so scared shitless we smile’
and heart-say hello hello hello
wishing love wishing earth.
I’m So Nature
:: — ::
i walk three steps beyond hallucination
and my feet have wings take flight into the air
people telling me “you’re not here…”
say, i’m saying who’re talking too?
i gotta go gotta go
gotta go — i’m in the air
f l y i n g three feet above
the ground looks so good not too far if i crash
crash into the darkness and the Muppet-faced people
move their necks “you’re my friend” but i hate
you saying “you’re so scary”
a fevered heart melting
a fevered heart melting
all in Palestine Texas
driving the white line in deep darkness______!
i see the tree line outside headlight sight
and the moss in Pascagoula seeps inside me
a moss heart swampland lover haunts the road
just want to play my tunes making a beeline
to Palestine Texas
but the moon sashay into my heart tonight
and the brain inside my head feels so weak
so this noise is about revenge all along
the road of I-10 a n d i s c r e a m inside all me
just before i’m dead i see the finger of
her; she has a white glove full o’moss (uh huh hum)
grab me take me they’ll say “he’s all dead”
but all the lady-victims of I-10 say so
good to see you alive for this moment.
“Come here poor boy, lose identity in
the night” and so we road the highway
of swamp and night some wear white
but the ladies wear red
:: 08-18-2015 ::
if i were to kiss a mozart
how would i know genuis
from such lips
if i were to hug a picasso
how would i feel art
from such an embrace
i should look into
such eyes and see a score
and a canvas of beautiful
color chasing daffodils
across the snowy inner land
of my own soul
and if i try to understand
what they wish to say
to me perhaps i should
never know how leaping notes
and flaming flowers of blazing
light met me on wet dewed
morning days when i was ragged
And maybe i understand since
i’m one too with reflecting eyes
weathered faces lined in pain
and so now i understand how
all of you gave the world
all your spirit to grow
so we all suffer for our own
insanity and who ever listens
— perhaps none ever will.
:: 07-30-2015 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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