E.P. Robles | Poetry

SHE is young.  

The one who roams amongst pink roses, oh crush
oh must of doves;  the fortress of a high ceiling sun, and then
she speaks through a flute of wild wind and separates the clouds
from the rain.  

    My skin, my heart, my eyes are filled with cherry blossoms
and only then and only then I realize I am spurting from my heart.

  i smell the smell of fallen water as drops upon thirsty dirt;
i hear i feel the thunderous hoofbeats of raging horsemen,
dreams filled with velocities and misfortunes.

    i see i see the bloody roses and thorn knives cut flesh
who rides a beast of Love with an apple and goblet of wine
   because i am a poet of words and words and emotions
that can never die.  Broken wings that are twisted charis
waiting for a winter, and the dead dove, with love.

:: 10.10.2020 ::

So, madness is a flower of the forest. Recommend an appetite.

I built a bunker from Trump and Biden with a laser beam.

Keep away politics!

I am naturally human — a Prince of calm, treasure of fascinating cuts:

saving my wrists and bleeding my mind — recommend another food for my heart.

  i hate confused souls;  scholars, Dubonnet Sir Pint, souls bleeding a middle man

are heaped with lavender pyramids, drive me wild! She comes to me. Anytime i recommend

her appetite blows everyone’s mind. Insatiable appetite.

In all her words she never spoke how to overrule planets nor systems — a baroness
then again so gentle: she gave art and war.

She leaves systems to become born.  A great mother -- an elegant female spirit.

Drives you wild — class of agility and rules space and time….

what an appetite. we try.

  to survive.

:: 10.08.2020 ::

THE night crashes like a dagger ///—\\ THE winds turn like falling rains
the night is absent of light; the day is full of maybe’s and
the night is closing but it’s not too late. It’s not too late.
Like Mars the atmosphere is leaving
but i am not fearing. So, oceans rolling like thunder and
it’s not too late. I shall not fear evil.
As city structures fall and turn to rust Our lives turn
into ashes but it’s not too late. Not too late.
Within an atmosphere so lethal and evil but i shall not fear
— i am a ghost like the day breaks. the darkness the darkness.
Others will feel my touch, they will see me and then they will die
and their very lights will fade. I am a clock.
It is in the very language we speak.
In reality we are now aware an experience to be experienced.
“My feet are your feet. I am what you were.
I am the wind.
I am light.
I am the moon.
I am what you should be.
I am everything.” i got to go like ultra ultra pain — feel the rain/
Destroying all the negatives before the black
mass of media takes hold of all meaning.
Boys be drinking genius juice
women confused. It accentuates the positive and destroys negative.
Get a hold of it. Women smelling the frog powder/devil beating
the zombie land\ if you want to be a star i will eat the original
art from the fallen ones___ just me. Black op zone all alone.
This is the true story a true story based upon a deep lie in history.

:: 10.08.2020 ::

WHAT is Life when a landslide clears clarity? What is a word? A scribble
upon a frowning face? What does the ground speak? hungry– wishing to
shake the Earth around me…
i threw up / swallowed my youth \ screamed, “i knew not what was up
knew not what was down” but the wind blows :
“Hello, i am no one yet so damn sweet when anyone who, some
(preferably sends shivers down my spine
) kisses me || to love || i worked my bones to the ground
i died standing upon my feet and never had a chance to see
myself in a mirror — because, somebody loves me, yea.
i worked myself through the 70s and 80s and 90s and 00’s and now
i iive by a principle that somebody loves me — if they can find me.”
yeah. Oh, working hard when i was boney little boy in the 60s!
Ah! Hendrix! Hippies and serial killers! — hey — i tried i tired!
but then everyone wants to put me down
so i got a hold of my brains (yea yea yea)
i need no one to love me i need someone
to love me i need no one to fight for me
i need everyone to fight to fight to fight
to fight (find me) for LOVE! SOMEBODY LOVE me:
within the dimmest of yellow and the feldt green
little buds in the lost woods (she could care less)
just waiting for the light of dew (bees in the doorway)
goosebumps on my wrists and acne in my armpits
pierced (caviar) confusion in my mirror — because
somebody loves me — if they can find me.
somebody who steals my smile and like royalty tells me the cosmos
is a round, kind world i was just a little wobbly baby
in this life and like a new baroness now my eyes (see what
shines) they say, “Bing! there she is look again
“every single! she’s got so much to give so it just went wrong”
i became a woman & seems you never stop growing
in sadness/ was part of my makeup/ i became a (whispers), a witless man
sitting on the steps reading letters from his mailbox with his cat —
of the public library: well its where i felt most alive
but some little BAD, BAD, BAD CHILD got his hands on me
slashed my heart then there was pain stubborn and apathetic to
beating my head, I heard in my head — go to Bethlehem, then
to Egypt — there i read — “here’s a break in the cloud,
its rain over Bethlehem –” —

“now it is the 9th hour (a new day in the city of night) these words go up |
on my palm, you wanna be somebody?
go right! go right! go right! you gotta go right!

it’s worth it now or be a stupid step that somebody let in you were somebody
(youth comes and takes you away)
somebody (loved you too)
somebody did not understand
somebody loved you (someone cared)
somebody who held you (surely there’s
someone left that remembers)
somebody somewhere is
forever glad you were born

(the angels sing as they sway at your birth)

you’re not so bad
you might’ve done better if you could’ve kept your bloody hands off me
but alas, someone loves me
somebody (they’re longing)
somebody like you love
somebody who takes you
(like when you pick your teeth)

“That’s not a pretty thing to see,” i say and you say, “it’s you, i thought you looked good
when we were going out and then you got fat and got wrinkles and stuff and all that kept happening
and you got old
and you were alone
but then you met me
(you’re not nobody
i never wanna be nobody no more)
and I made you fat
and wrinkled
but now you’ve got some pep
(yea!) to your step
you still look good
so can I go out?
can you tell everybody how to approach me?

Well, have you learned by now how to approach the one you love?
cause if so, don’t tell nobody
cause I’m staying right here
with my arms wide open (momma’s
got a tap and singin’ voice)
well, go tell the moon
don’t let anybody keep you apart
by holding on to somebody
you can’t even stand and you don’t feel that way anymore (to feel this way again)
that’s sad
that’s sad sad sad
and we’re all bound to die so come on now
whoa whoa
tell the right one how you feel
tell the right one
how you feel

that you want to be somebody
betcha don’t let anybody know how you feel

Well whoa whoa tell the right one
how you feel
that you want to be somebody
you just lost your mind well whoa whoa
give your love to the devil
if you want to stay together
if you want to get rich
so go to Cairo
and see the pyramids
dive into the Nile (bend down and drink from the River)
learn how to swim
befriend the pharaoh
see how things have gone
well i ain’t so good
but i can dance.

:: 10.07.2020 ::