i hear
everything seen
the vision but a gleam
in every air.
all the voices an ocean
as the farthest cries from
the sound of distant cities,
in the evening, within my
soul and mind.
Always.
i hear
everything touched
— and my spirit and visions!
stops along my path in life.
:: 08.24.2020 ::
with a pinkish red slender tongue
and a singular set of balls i do
not lift a foot from the bed
but bury my duties within
the flesh of my woman:
harlequin vipers around us
and a terrible urgency to
finish what we started after
saying, “hello.” The angel
of modesty fled with a precision
that buried a tray of common sense
while two human bodies melted into
one flesh – spiritually and physically
: we forgot we were human/feeling as
brilliant light\ from mistletoe and
sweet kisses. we were the origin of
fire.
I passed through your sprawling hills
and you turned off the lights without
sowing terror – riddles forgotten.
Your thighs a desert and my shaft
a delight.
:: 08.22.2020 ::
we can walk upon the house
through closed doors
across the kitchen without
making sound —
we can walk across the moon
leave trash and mark our
print as humanity like we do
all from reliable heat
of the academic thoughts of
ego — knives and guns reproduce
the fever:
a giant step we take
breaking legs.
so troubled with sex appeal which
media mentions and corresponds so
wonderfully — oh beautiful blue
whales: that glide effortless
as an early fever in early
odic enchantment/keep it up/
oh oh\ keep it up / within the
deepest creases of human-animal
minds.
:: 08.22.2020 ::
EVIL behind our back as a reflection
counting space and passion, a written
prose so sad — it’s a sad world;
when a man breaks a woman because
he can — where a face full of owls
glide the winds to touch your dry
tongue.
Benediction and mermaid breasts
consequences across your cross
and face — to raise your hands
with love for a word spoken in
fitful nightmare dreams.
No newspaper on the front porch
no milk bottles at 5 am today
i expected suffering for only
myself and my handwritten eyes
oh, no one knew anything
but my criminal spirit
and women who cried to the moon
and drank the voice of blood
and evil deeds of lust and flesh
as frogs croaking and serving roots
nothing to lose and no begging
her eyelids fluttered and floated
to meet disunity and a single finger
waving — BURST in the AIR and give
hell to pay //obligations and death
meet in the middle.
:: 08.22.2020 ::
Mellifluous are the songs of moon
lit lips pressing a maddened
heart as mine!
This largest night ate the orchards
and prismatic towns by the shores
where waves say goodbye torturing
women who have lost their sailors
on calmer nights.
Instead of life the sea has come
has come to take from me
all i have called normality
what most who love may dislike
what some who hate may balance
i n l i f e :
a severe disinclination
or tolerance for such as me!
so cold are some it feels as stings
from a polar bee!
I followed a
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
feather
toward the ground
along the twist
-ing-twirl
-ing
dizzy<
| path |
I found a penny
which held no thoughts
together the feather
and copper bone
fell upon an anvil
cloud of striking stone!
:: 08-05-2014 ::
I feared a thing untold & unseen
that thing i feared my mind
a thing too!
Split by half in such unknown
i strove to know:
unraveled too which spilled
upon the floor!
Imperfect thoughts rolled
from higher ground to low!
Then reality’s curtain fell;
my needle tired to stitch
the past when love was good
but life ran beyond the needle
and instead stitched time
within my soul
:: E.P. ROBLES (c) 2018::
:: 05-15-2014 ::
:: 10-20-2018 ::
We are all born into a dream
so deep that most never awaken
:: 04-04-2014 ::
confession: my life is emotion more than words which i write
that emotion speaks to me more clearly than the tongue
and a written word- better a feeling sometimes, a little
just a kitten needing milk and others, a beast untamed
nothing can stay it’s rage a prisoner am i; a soul cage
emotions — my dwelling hole and at times the mountain peak
but often middle ground — therefore when you speak to me
know i am feeling each word that, emotion speaks to me
more clearly than the tongue and a written word- better
:: 04-04-2014 ::
There within the meadow
beneath the 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 the meadow
beneath the weepy willow
saw rebirth of soul
and fear fled, sorrow too
and the willow cried
“what soul once chained
— NOW FREE!”
:: 04-03-2014 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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