WHAT fear that burns
that all the eye can see
the morning bird upon a tree
such burning truth that melody!
sweeping morning clear the night
erasing visage of thick-white fog
and the mortal soul
who is lost within last night
upon this beautiful day
of mourning light!
:: ~~ ::
There past the before of today the heart and soul tenderly aches
for the simpler times
of bygone era
where feet once were
to horseback and hoof
as wheels to silver steel wings
— travel much a quickeroo
but less to see!
months to weeks
from days to minutes
dizzy-spinning mind in me!
What future tomorrows
shall less sanity bring
where wings away fall
to conquer nature’s pull
blink-less stellar travel
and time-river reversal!
Such command and power
— but we lose it all,
human-less are we
a mere reflection
of what was-be
such horrid tragedy!
:: ~~ ::
There within that meadow
beneath that weeping willow
came to me, my love —
upon golden wings
and gossamer hair
what separation held
dissolved unto bliss
my heart gently held
within angelic mist
there within that meadow
beneath that weepy willow
saw a rebirth of soul
and fear fled, sorrow too
and the willow cried
“what soul once chained
— NOW FREE!”
:: 04-03-2014 ::
:: Rev: 09242017::
I’m sitting pondering
bits and pieces
of my own beating heart by the shore
i texted the coast guard watching
the porpoise flipping across waves
in cerulean memories of when i
said ‘i meant to honor you even
if i loose everything in the
ocean of my life’
I watched how the shores took a bit
of you so i send my love to you
you are the sunlight of my life
every night giving all my love to you
and seashells singing of you
the warmest blood of all is so fanthoms deep
so i honor you with the seas of my heart
:: 10282015 ::
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 is her voice
was the cardinal in snow
the sweetest saddest
joy of her voice
and the least less 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
see the set of an Ensured Trap.
births a new universe.
:: 10262015 ::
Perhaps when I throw up
it’s when I’m with you
haphazardly birthing baby
dreams across the cosmos
Perhaps when I’m with me
noting flies speaking lies
as the autumn season mauls
. . . one perfectly placed
coffin (or coffee?)
I caught a whiff of old books
at a red light and how strange
the road is a book-spine without
words or covers
And someone asked, “would
you hit a woman with a baby?”
No, I’d hit her with a brick
is the e.e. cummings answer.
:: 10262015 ::
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 ::
My soul is lost
upon ice-blue crevasses so deeply!
help me my blue elephant
that lettuce is brave
like electrons always saying hello
and never goodbyes!
You slip on lice and break your arms
it’s all so SCHIZOPHRENIC: tangentiality!
stilted speech and phonemic paraphasia
are mainly broken-minded poets
who use both sides of a pencil
-+95% of black eyes kill 5% of rabbits
and the bird whistles in Japaneses:
“sei shin bun retsu byo”
( mind split disease)
where logic and proportion falls
between the King & Queen
AND ALL ANGELS go to 7-Eleven
in their heavenly garments to buy
hot dogs and slur-pees
and writing is a socially acceptable
form of schizophrenia…hmm….
such is the paradox of delusion
and how are you? When you walk down
a sidewalk to the abuse of verbally
abusive birds chirping loudly how
dull and stupid you are. So you move into
a homeless shelter and make new friends!
:: 10242015 ::
Love when harsh feelings die
stirs my heart–
fields, like golden dreams
sticking life
like humming bird’s wings
A bright sun hangs in place
that burns my heart–
feels mighty like olden days
picking red roses
which leaves all pink
reminds me of you
as June’s garden’s full
of odours, when sweet
violets sicken. Then will
you think you’re happy?
:: 10242015 ::
i may walk lightly through days
while…did you see the stars?
they fell into my pockets
and one with holes i keep,
where souls go when
life is somewhat-like
the dug hole for the dead
7′ by 3′ is a testimony
to the largeness of human life
then please do not stand upon
this grave and weep:
the phone shall never be answered
the message someday may be received
the blue jay in snow always sings
the fallen heart glints in lost love
the poet lives by many constructed words
When I stand by this grave I am not six
feet deep but three miles upward into
the uplifting rush of a brilliant sky
:: 10242015 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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