|| EACH poem is not for words
nor for hanging portraits
upon the eye~ but a lesson:
the emotions are greater than any
angle-STACKED font-bite BEING
between the covers of a booKLife
It is EMOTION and not words
that poets express to the world ||
:: 07-10-2015 ::
While men defied the dwelling
of gods in higher hills
Macchu Picchu had her
gateway to a star within
the skies ~ hoping one
plus one equaled two
until the evil one sleeps
the begining of humanity
was the pink one ; a pensive
flower of this World that no
creature could ever experience
and live but you do ~~~ LIVE.
:: 01.10.2023 ::
WHEN the people have a government
that thinks they’re content
but the people are struggling
the government thinks it permanent
and some live and some die
from Heaven came the voice
“Some Live Some Die.”
IF there’s a point of defence
ghosts and other spirits feel
jacked by this society
the world was a world where
they loved Mankind but not now.
i Kissed Eve in Paradise
i gave all my children to the
War forgotten by Time.
Peace.
:: 01.10.2023 ::
living is a song of confusion
for the paradise sound
if you take myself then know
you take my kiss in no wrong
my days have been a dream
flown away by night and day
Upon my brow imparting from
you know : i was not a daze
but my life a dream as my
hope flew away as a wish
holding a tender kind hand
All we see all we feel
is by Spirit against a roar
and holding within my hand
the precious few who touched
my heart, oh my life while
i weep! Is all that we see
or seem but a dream within
a dream?
:: 01.10.2023 ::
the last 3 sentences are
of Mr. E. A. Poe
Between night and dawn
the moon sings for tired flowers
from a last breath
death rattles as though
life is beaten
Spoken words to the dying
burst forth as first joys
relating similar circumstances
are the words clutched by the
dying night ~ bleeding into a
crimson horizon of sunlight
between night and dawn is
death and resurrection.
:: 01.10.2023 ::
I have seen visions of someone
like you in my life –~ holding
me from the darkest night
falling in love for centuries
i thought I would never find
you Love — isn’t it pain
who touches my soul -? this
sister-hood who got us through
is’t it love and isn’t it enough
for love?
:: 01.08.2023 ::
monster MOUTH eat my Heart
dig it and exterminate me
find me sell me
for your love is it trash
monster Mouth eat my heart
i smell angels jizz on me
and witches lick me
did i say “rock” dying as
you birth the Souls behind
my back and monster MOUTH
comes to me -> do it baby
(you’re acting as an
animal) DRAG drops 21
and devil upon my back
I CAN NEVER DIE |
:: 0`1.08.2023 ::
FLEW inside my Soul upon a dusty plain. i did not know how thirsty
life could be until this moment. My thoughts toward the skies
requesting rain. | Blue azure above and brown abstract emotions
showing distant love and death. i count the ways i feel waves
moving me always /i still recall the taste of your touch \ and recall
the voice that’s ringing within my Ears : saliors wishing they find
shore than the hull of death.
Releasing fear makes it all go away
i make it all go away and wish nothing
That giant makes you slowly take apart
all what you are and leaving color
— and my heart makes this all go away
but know it makes me scared to want something
–something i could never have.
:: 01.08.2023 ::
ATE the World inside a bite stood and stained
again and raged for dawn (like kids without food)
of Light sometimes it’s like
god is dog and woof and woof
We could have more
but He was the One and now
singing is like shooting guns
you know what it means
In our pretty Life He just sees
and we know what it means
yeah | Hey father –> excuse
me : dad. Tipsy Tova swivel
neck finding philosophy to find
what it means /he’s the one who
likes to sing and shot his mouth
\ i have the gun yeah. / i was
so self-assured the dirt would
create me you know how low hello
sad i know It’s all incredible
nibblets of mascara limo nights
And how i saw i was speeding by
into the ‘you tell me’ so tell me
hello tell me oh no say:
often stupide
more contagious
below buffalo
yeah ~ kiss me.
:: 01.08.2023 ::
Late today i met the dealer
who gives death with smiles
watching the world kicking
and screaming all the way
into his mouth /blood on
the face\ bruised knuckles
knocking away “` five metal
slugs inside that memory
destroyed the pain | it really
clued me in. And if you cut
yourself does it make you happy
keeping pain within your jar
puncture breathing holes
come one it’s gas
You made me think of Poe
you clued me inside ~
you cannot fool yourself
nor make yourself happy
unless you reach inside
that jar of beautiful pain.
You’re happy now
You really knocked it
You clued a chance with Life.
:: 01.08.2023 ::
 | EPRobles on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
 | Adam Fisher on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
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 | R. Marshall on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
 | Stefan on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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