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 ::
she took me inside
her thought
i ate the darkness//
my heart shared a milk-
shake tart-kissed
the stomach scar where
my life died inside
the umbilical cord
word of her
SpringWomb kiss
i sit and wish
i could express
the bliss of you
my voice-slit
so the snake
could slither
into your
darklit heart
From womb
to tomb
i surrender
my life
your hand
rocks the crib
of my youth
from bloom
to hedonistic
doom i love you
forever jasmine
my botanical
toothed love
my forNever
Springwomb Kiss
:: 10-11-2014 ::
i am no-
thing
NEVER was
a thing to
take away–
and now i
AM nothing
Abuse is zero
and i love me
and HATE you
//–//
orange-yellow
as though-through
glass flower,
what pull on me
a delicate but
dangerous power!
and your love
that attracts
my worst,
corrupts my best!
‘what true man wants,
two things…’
said Nietzsche;
danger and play!
and nature, smug
and smart as hell,
cultivated your curves
that all men dream
and car-crash love,
soon across the way
below dead man’s curve
and through —
orange-yellow
glass flower
:: 10-11-2014 ::
| LIFE is static save the canvas it rolls and tosses across the spectrum of all our souls // – // |
little-voice my biggest
tender tiny heart-Fire
burn my lipSoul when
all my words — sleeping
I tuck them beneath
the country-prose of
my land of living words
my little voice, tenderly!
within the hands I write
I hold your flowerHeart
and scribe the love within
the land of living words
and remain forever yours,
my living word!
:: 10-05-2014 ::
where, my ‘lost’
should
choose to hide?
when my ‘lost’
gained
the hand I tried
so tried to hold
it left (or died?)
where my ‘lost’
shall I run?
the memories
of love
or the new ones
of pain and shadow
if I run (and I should)
toward the sun
what fires but that
to cleanse my soul!
:: 10-05-2015 ::
my fear-tiny
feet patter in Side
tinyMe that room
alone and Me
my handFace
slapping fear-
hating me longer
distaste my fear
King–my costly
wasteful weakness
:: 10-05-2014 ::
Lately i’ve come to know
the meaning of dis-so-low
bringing up my daisies
where ever i go driving
along turnpike desert bloom
inside my traffic heart
i got a ticket just for
speeding toward the end
where every crash-car ends
heavy foot crazy jaw-bit love
riding inside my jalopy car
burning smelling wheel cart
speeding straight toward
your beautiful turnpike
i stop to smell the bloom
and daisy-crazy pushing up
i got a ticket just for
speeding toward the end
where every crashCar ends
i never saw the policeSoul
chasing my jalopy car down
my burning smelling wheelCar
now i’m singing of dis-so-low
igniting inside my cadmium car
and i got a ticket just for
smelling your beautiful turnpike
i stopped to smell the bloom
while i die within my cadmium dreams
:: 10-06-2014 ::
 | 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 
You must be logged in to post a comment.