E.P. Robles | Poetry

Other voices in the garden //They long for
the roses.  
They live, boast, play in the soil of a day
so precious.

Too soon the graves bury them all
below only to rise again in the light
as stars that stop burning
the earth, to spend eternity
at the throats of wandering stars.
We Who watched we so Embraced.
Faint.
The stone.
The earth.
A curious rustling in the grass. A boyish giggle.
A girl’s giggles make Light.
In a house where nothing moves.
Such a strange thing.
Reason.
That the stars should never
go out.

:: 09.25.2020 ::

a strain of realization beyond the eye-see
a touch of familiarity delicate is such wonder
a poised daisy in a field more expensive than mind
dropping tears in vast nothings-do
// a gleam of immortality dipped in fog-dew
the sharp tonic of vapor as sparse folds-
a delicate pinch from an errant kiss
giving you a taste of the divine

I close my eyes & find my way to you

A lone breeze takes flight into my mental
surf tossing around images carved in shadow-
in spite of my effort
I lose track of their finality

Tiny suction cups clinging to a crevice
catching fleeting moments like clouds in light
tingling within ephemeral light

THE petite heart-slight as a two-cents coin
quiet as a snowfall spewing light
into a cold, lifeless world

:: 09.25.2020 ::

By some Sourdough monk in Northern Europe Patron Saint: The Drunk Monk of Nimbus HERE you will find the only reliable treatment to solve all your psychiatric and medical problems.

The Drunk Monk has won many awards for his unconventional experimental treatments.

All of the Four Pillars of Understanding have been found to contain gold along with the Mayan Calendar. The importance of this breakthrough is that you may rid yourself of the ‘Woolsey Complex’ of whatever madness has brought you here today!

You need not pay the traditional price of gold this Buddhist monk can supply cheaply (assuming you don’t mind that this saint was turned away from the Inn In Henley upon Thames, over 1,000 miles from here!) in which you’ll find:

1. A helpful cosmic energy: energy from the Emperor of the Universe! He’s like Santa Claus without the jolly youthfulness or lack of living relatives.

2. Dependable transportation: the Holy Nimbus Scooter. Just take that scooter, turn it upside down, and it’s a see-saw!

3. All 4 Pillars of Understanding: the number of boatloads of cash that you’re destined to receive from unknown sources, and soon you’ll be having tea with the Queen!

4. Also, all the Five Pillars of Wisdom: I won’t be delivering the 5th but you already have it, don’t you? (He’s helping you move! You’ll see what I mean!).

The drunk monk uses a dozen different methods to get you “saved!” First, you’ll need to drink a liter of vodka every day Do you think he’s kidding? Then, and only then, will you learn that Zen Buddhism has been around for a long time and yet doesn’t have any tradition of drunken asceticism!

On the contrary, you’ll learn that Zen Buddhism was an old tradition of Buddhism in which monks exalted in quiet prayer could use liquor in their meditation and drink it out of respect for the Emperor of the Universe.

You’ll also learn that in the original 4th Pillar of the Buddha’s teachings, the monk used no alcohol but on his first miracle he just drank a glass of sake without soiling himself. The Drunk Monk will help you as he helps other desperate people who are down on their luck.

Give me your name and address and I’ll let you know when I can see you next!

:: 09.25.2020 ::

FED upon pain and desolation    his skin was translucent
and a heart of tulips      a mind — scentless
a world a countries refused  to feed him;  counties
and borders of seaman    aah!  away!  go away!
eyes of life & truth       abdomen as a wasp
lips stinging liars         he held a hip of holsters
truth-gun shooting liars     caught the flowers of a
dying field of a Nation      ahhh!  Go away!  Go away!
Go away!!!!    A school of      mushrooms and a day full of
night — a fit for lying      bastards hey!!!! go away!
go away!  go away!  go away!
His memories were born before
his flesh — aaaah!  Ahhh!
go away go away go away!

:: 09.21.2020 ::

AT times as now
i happen to be tired
of being a man.
so fashionably sensible
entering tailor shops
or movie theaters
; the weather tearing me
apart, an impenetrable,
i hide under the wings
of a swan; smoking my
cigars and talking over
the murmur of the rain’s
philosophy.

i happen to be tired
of my feet and my face —
it’s always the same.
some have said i am the mysterious
one with the hair of a god/not me\
so this is my heart bleeding
before you — upon my knees
-[death would be lovely i imagine]
to be brilliant i need to run down
the streets with a sexy knife screaming
how i love Mozart: shouting until
i freeze to death. But with my
dark eyes and hidden heart: poetry
or eyeglasses, and elevators.
life is breaking my heart.
Nevertheless i am delighted
to awaken ghosts and lost loved ones;
to slay a priest or his nun with my
veins — to walk through churches
or crawl through orthopedic shops,
and the world of foolish games.

the dove of love is filled
with spilt blood and deep tears.

:: 09.21.2020 ::