LOVE is a shadow of:
evocation
religion
caviar
building a strength
beyond congeniality
She — a baroness
a busy busty Queen
of Hearts so dynamite
blew most minds…
I? A King of Minds
so let them come get me
in their royal robes
those rich bastards!
Most are drunken cocksmen
two-timed bastards
rebel fuckers
says my “mouth of saints.”
:: 02.07.2022 ::
my FINGER is broken-ART moving
into deep caves of your Brain
Yolar following me — a beautiful
fluttering butterfly: an extraterrestrial
being to you. We are versed in
concept of ‘time’ and wonder how
it is you exist. It is the experience
of humanness :
“Take all my singing thy mingling life!
Slender thoughts be slender limbs of
one nestled dove-like heart I hear:
singing! Singing! Tears of my tears
and thy heavy blossom-bosom Springtime!
She wears a summer’s dress of pink and white
cavernous depths of romances carve perfume
love of Light!
Upon your eyes between dream of blue-gray
questions! See to see! Feels. ~~ immense
kissing lips. Is Human.
:: 02.07.2022 ::
FOOTSTEP near COLOSSAL mouth
eating life by minute
were we once human?
DEATH smiles hanging
chance by time TOGETHER are
they! DEATH and TIME!
tick-o’tock fucking everything
in its path. One thing always
the same: dirt, dirt, dirt.
that which buries our bodies
when we give up the Ghost.
How intellect saves us then.
Our positions, titles, loves,
real estate and money. All an
illusion for false gratification.
i loved a flower
AND
within her soil. Her petals are
greatly beautiful color.
Tiny fingers as a new born.
WE conquered the evil.
ATE the evil and spat it out.
And went for ice cream upon a
beautiful morning.
:: 02.07.2022 ::
In my office there is this guy
who can’t keep his hands
off of me; a brush on my leg
a touch upon my shoulder
a hand on my arm; I am
not too sure what repulses
me more — my fascination
of this repulsive feeling or
that he is a man and married
and I, a guy!
05-14-2015 ::
WEEDY tender vines,
potted plants in parks,
and the moon, appearing
in the morning – a moulin heard;
a clump of shrubs murmurs
like bells in a vineyard.
:: 02.05.2022 ::
I’d kiss your lips;
Crush them like grapes,
and lick up the sweet juice.
You’d smile at my kiss;
You’d turn, and let me go
to go far away.
Then, like the girl in the fairy tale
you’d try to outwit me
and return once more
to that thought, which you knew,
that still creeps upon your sleep,
the thought that it should
Be this way, somehow, all of the time.
All the time. For me.
Always for me.
Because that’s all you ever wanted to know.
And that’s all I ever wanted to tell you.
God bless your heart for the Song you Sing.
:: 02.05.2022 ::
I know:
It’s a good thing that no one should see me.
With frightening calm, I was watching what was going on, how he had the most extraordinary power over a number of human beings that human eyes had never seen.
Fearful but it’s a good thing, it will happen very often to a person, to dissolve, desiring the fulfillment of a precious human dream, “seek what will keep me satisfied” you can call the dream.
To make a great stand, the, “i wish.” Would it be enough? i, a whole human being whose heart was absolutely beating in the pit of a stomach, a first scream. I’m now a solid conversion of helpless salvation.
Everyone in hell is a poor poet.
How nature takes advantage of my existence of my innocence. I ate the letters and numbers of all languages but still human alchemies, mysticisms and fake perfumes are weak against that frightening calm.
And still, Hell asks for an encore when i stand upon that brimstone stage spewing my moonlit 3’o clock prose.
:: 02.05.22 ::
WHO has been so shy with the truth—
that has made the apotheosis of you an ordeal
from which you have not quite arrived? Listen:
it is the voice of those who stand near, the people you love,
who knew and loved you best. You are their sun, and you
are still this sun, still their sun, the sun of a homeland
nearer than their other homes, the center of a garden
unburdened of yews or pines, the middle way in this world.
———where was this homeland to be found,
this refuge or dance: lightness of your steps,
salt of your hair, the voice that made their hearts
inhale—over there in a Pusan train station,
in a mindhood from Hanoi, perhaps in an O’Brien family.
So let us wander together in the evenings, let the teeming
skies be clean, the mastic perfume adorning the cactuses and
trees, as these have spread its fiery fragrance, to grace the
fires of the cabanas with myriads of lighted cinders. let the
light of the evening sunset descend from behind the edge of
the Seine and bathe us with the sparkling waters of the
Ajoagua River in the region of Guatemala, where the Kaqchikel
people have danced to the music of the Fuego’s clashing pyramids. —
— the strata, the rocks, in the Pisco region of Peru.
There, yes there.
We find Love.
:: 02.05.2022 ::
WiDE white spaces of prose
l i k e c old
m o u ths in s now
ate my tender
s o u l
and no/w i real ized
the fire within my mind
and drew sufficed
itself and satisfied flakes
some too fragile for
winter winds___
Crystal reflects my smile;
when she falls upon me!
:: 10232015 ::
WHEN the love of her hand held me in dying bliss
the pain of my loss! flew all history’s winter
until I heard a bird i dreamed i could sing
but nowhere within her voice was the cardinal in snow:
the sweetest saddest joy of her voice and the least than a wish;
particle of a whole infinite, who is life?
The primary universe fraught with great peril; war, plague,
famine and natural disasters so common
and Death come to use all love is a fourth dimension
of Time in a stable constant, but never impenetrable
as when a tangent Universe occurs those laughing, saying
happy birthday are at the epicenter of a dangerous new
world and teacher tell me what’s my lesson:
“the Manipulated Dead
of an Ensured Trap
births new universes.
:: 10262015 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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