Last night gravity broke down and today
my toilet refuses to acknowledge a
fundamental rule: the push of God’s gaze
should make the toilet water flush away
all of my worse fears and physical
burdens.
It hasn’t and likely will never.
Lifting the cosmic lid and adjusting
the lever of proposition gives me
some hope — gravity apparently
has a terrible temperment when shit
tries to float down hill.
:: 06-01-2018 ::
scream your thoughts
into the void
and bring some flowers
crowned in thorns
and hold your thoughts
for the parade
of sad mannequins
they all limp forward
toward the grave
and all i know
and all i pray
and all i see
is a forever now
and all i taste
and all i feel
and all i do
is live forever now
and the weight of flesh
is best held in contempt
and the worst of us
is the best of all
and it’s always been
so it always will be
and to taste a smile
is the flavor of life
so pray so beg so needed
and today of all days
is the forever now
the forever now
forever now
now.
:: 06-01-2018 ::
DOUR skies slipping by
and i’m drinking a bit
of that God Juice
and mama said there’d be
these days somewhere
along my path o’life
but i’m gonna drop that
devil and his wicked
truth sandwich’d between
his lying teeth
Oh yeah mama
speaking truth ~
and where’s the sane world
oh yeah oh hell oh my o’my
and the world’s sprayed
crisscrossed across the sky
aerosol demon cinema snuff
telemetry overload death
and i’m gonna go sleep
under that tree
and no need for sympathy
or tears for all this horror
cause i’m drinking a bit
of that God Juice to make
it all right all right
Alright;
its a tough bitch to see
all the horror in the
light of day!
:: 05-26-2018 ::
“That’s alright…” he cry he cry he cries.
“we’re all alive on the inside and you’re
my friend my friend my friends
and i’m gonna kill you.”
Like we’re all holed up in a delirium
hotel and when he’s done you’ll know some
things you didn’t know before //oh let it
rain let it rain let it rain to kill the pain\\
“A crack in the window a world in a hole and
i want you to see the magician, a fire eater,
the fat lady, serpentina, sea monkey, see honey,
see my flipper feet and we’re all here just to
make a dollar and then you’ll have to go now.”
And all the time the ticking timer inside your
head tocs and knocks for a last call on the
dollar deal –> always showtime on the inside
of your heart but the soul’s dead!
And so we wait in line and do the time oh what
a pity oh what a crime!
:: 05-21-2018 ::
THE power of my lost mind binds my tongue
between paper and pen obliquely bleeding
i leave it there.
esophageal –> the blue (my) heart
beneath sun setting pinks drowning squamously
and the gulls within their famous white regalia
0–oh!~ the magical patois across the
battered waves o’er the seas!
:: 05-17-2018 ::
a broken knee jerk
& mister dark reaching
up to kiss your blue lips
& misses aborted-by-
shattered-hope is how
she jumped the moon //
a crazy trip
too true SCREAMING:
run away run away
–> elope!
the country folk refuse
to see them and
baby tulip smoking elf’s
caught daisy by her
daffodil shorts snorting
a hand full o’loving
it hard; the Pope served
and Mary’s lamb with a
glass of wine and Jesus
Bread \\ And the world’s
on the shelf like a bad
product from Hell so go away
go away just run run run
away!
:: 05-11-2018 ::
THE heart a country unbound
that few live to believe;
a citizenry of longing hope
to fill fallacious ground
where angels float
the soul weeps
above summer’s season
of hell & perverted
throats //–>
seeking reason
the convenient rest
bleed unto the ground.
:: 04-27-2018 ::
Thimble and needle hear
my words
you’re too busy these days
to love
I’ve followed you through
and through
the toughest patches of life
and now my thread
has grown too thin
And we’ll never survive
never survive never survive
the stitching of our hearts
Paper, rock and scissors
needles, pins and threader
rulers of horror measure
the terror of my nightmare
as I watch the needle
of your busy work pierce
the tissue of my heart
I’ll never survive
never survive the sowing
of the madness
that’s your mind
:: 04-21-2018 ::
AND another day as the bones feel very pained to carry the burden of sin.
ALL two hundred six of them don’t want it; alas it is just the way
it is.
The glob of gelatinous goo in the brain-pan knows it. The cat-sticks have
tried to run from the affliction but to no avail. We’re stuck here
utters the piece of flapping clapper as though ringing a bell.
We’re stuck here.
But time dimishes the skin; watch, see? All saggy and wrinkled.
But still, a small ember of fire remains; the errection of need
or the pounding throbbing kitty’s meow.
Sin daddles at the thought and dew-beaters forget while walking on Mother
Earth.
Now, hush. This is your Soul talking to you: drop the skin.
No need for that peerie-winkie.
:: 04-14-2018 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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