E.P. Robles | Poetry

In the realm where laurels gleam, behold,
A tapestry of words now weaves, untold.
“Scientific Progress Eats Humanity” it cries,
A sonnet sung by noble hearts and wise.

Tesla, the gentle savant, stands tall,
His brilliance graced with virtue’s thrall.
Edison’s dark shadows dim his name,
An a$$hole’s past, a tarnished flame.

Through Nature’s papers, seeking truth,
Life’s mysteries unfold, vibrant and uncouth.
Like butterflies, it flutters by,
In transient beauty, we glimpse the sky.

A day shall come when stones shall sing,
“We wish you love, we wish you peace,” they’ll bring.
In yearning hearts, such dreams arise,
To mend a world with shattered ties.

“Yea, oh yea,” the poet chants,
A rhythm that the universe enchants.
In “now-now,” discontent takes hold,
A better age, their hearts behold.

No hearse with U-Haul now in tow,
For earthly treasures fail to follow.
Give all away, unselfish, kind,
In generous souls, true wealth we find.

Moths find no feast in emptiness,
No sustenance in void’s abyss.
Empty heads, no hats they don,
Yet wisdom’s crown, the worthy don.

“Who wears a real hat these days?”
The poet ponders, hearts ablaze.
Traditions wane, the world moves on,
Yet some eternal values dawn.

Beneath sinking waters, ships find reprieve,
Bound by fate and destiny’s weave.
A grand woman’s neck, abdomen long,
Mysterious beauty, nature’s song.

Forgive the orchids, frail and rare,
For feasting on her beauty fair.
They spat up pink, fluorescent bright,
Art and nature’s dance unite.

In this superbly crafted verse,
The poet’s soul, a universe.
With vivid imagery, it paints,
A masterpiece, the heart acquaints.

Embrace this ode to life’s grand quest,
Where science, art, and love attest.
A symphony of thoughts, profound,
In laureate’s realm, its echo bound.

:: 07.28.2023 ::

the day when hearts love as one

shall commence a broken Heaven

i’ve been patient so long

i’ve forgotten even

the terror and suffering

flown up to heaven,

a sick thirst again

darkens my veins.

let it come, let it come

the day when hearts love as one.

so the meadow

freed by neglect,

flowered, overgrown

with weeds and incense,

to the buzz nearby

of foul flies.

let it come, let it come

the day when hearts love as one.

:: 07.27.2023 ::

A black and silent “A” I’ve found,
Velvet-clad, a swarm profound,
Around the cruel’s fetid ground,
In shadows steeped, it doth abound.

An “E” of mist and candid air,
Like tents and lances, proud and fair,
Through glaciers white, it seems to dare,
And shivers of parsley, light as prayer.

“I” in purples, crimson hue,
Bloody salivas, emotions true,
Lonely smiles, a tearful view,
In penitence or anger, too.

Oh, “U,” with waves of greenish hue,
Divine shudders, seas renew,
Pastoral peace and cattle’s coo,
On furrowed brows, alchemy’s cue.

“O,” a clarion call divine,
Strange stridencies, sounds entwine,
Worlds and Angels therein shine,
Violet ray, her Eyes align.

In humanities voice, these vowels weave,
A tapestry of beauty, life conceive,
a choice of words, like winds that grieve,
Unveiling truth, a heart’s reprieve.

:: 07.27.2023 ::

THE ROYAL BEE

I keep these feelings
I keep these feelings
just to the One I Love

I keep these feelings
within a jar
by the barn
by the fence
by my heart
by my mind
i keep Love
Like when I walk Saturdays

            like sunshine
            like love today
            like when we smile

And like so many people are
feeling so many memories
feeling like i’m like you

I hold my breath underneath Life
afraid of drowning
afraid of breathing death

I smile across space and time
my fingers sticky
my heart full of honey

I am a royal bee buzzing
upon a summer breeze
finding my flower

:: 07.23.2023 ::

Moments pass like falling leaves,
silent as hearts breaking apart,
rivers red, rumbling over blue rocks,
whisper of love from nature’s heart.

Love freely flows through my veins,
embracing both men and women’s rights.
My parched tongue craves water’s kiss,
as fountains mingle with life’s delights.

In darkness, I write without a light,
with thoughts, passions, and desires ignite,
expressing what stirs this mortal frame,
the wonder of love in the day’s sweet light,
and the sacred flame that dances at night.

Beneath the moon’s gentle, silver glow,
it creeps, merging with evening’s soft light,
and there she stands, my hope, my joy,
my precious beloved, Genevieve!

Beside an armored knight, she leans,
a statue of noble might, serene,
she listens to my heartfelt verse,
in twilight’s lingering, tender sheen.

Her sorrows are rare, few and far between,
my hope, my joy, my Genevieve!
She loves me most when I sing
songs that bring her sorrow, I believe.

I play a melancholic melody,
and sing a tale of old and deep,
an ancient, rugged song that suits well
the wild, weathered ruin it does keep.

She listens, a fleeting blush adorns her,
with lowered gaze and modest grace,
for she knows I cannot help but be
captivated by her radiant face.

I tell her of a knight who bears
a burning brand upon his shield,
for ten long years he woos and strives
to win the Lady of the Land, revealed.

I speak of his yearning and anguish,
in pleading tones, both deep and low,
through which I sing another’s love,
yet in truth, it mirrors my own woe.

She listens, a fleeting blush adorns her,
with lowered gaze and modest grace,
and she forgives me for my intense
adoration of her lovely face.

As I narrate the cruel scorn that drives
this brave knight to the edge of madness,
how he wanders through mountain woods,
consumed by sadness and relentless sadness,

Sometimes emerging from savage dens,
sometimes from the darkest glade,
and sometimes awakening abruptly
in green glades under the sun’s warm cascade.

A beautiful, radiant angel appears,
gazing into his eyes with a wicked guise,
and he knows it’s a fiend, a wicked being,
in torment’s mask, his heart belies.

Unknowing, he leaps into the fray,
amongst murderous men, he does descend,
and saves the Lady of the Land,
from a fate far worse than death, my friend.

She weeps and clasps his wounded knees,
tending to him, her efforts in vain,
struggling to expiate the scorn
that shattered his mind and caused such pain.

Tenderly, she nurses him in a cave,
where madness fades, his mind regains,
until on golden forest leaves,
a dying man he forever remains.

But when I reach the most tender part,
the sweetest strain in this heartfelt tale,
my voice falters, my harp pauses,
stirring her soul, causing her to wail.

Her emotions, senses, all entwined,
indistinguishable, yet crystal clear,
gentle wishes long suppressed,
nurtured, cherished, no longer mere.

She weeps with pity and delight,
blushing with love and maiden’s shame,
like a whispering dream’s gentle hum,
she softly breathes my beloved name.

Her bosom rises and falls with emotion,
she steps aside, aware of my gaze,
then suddenly, with timid eyes,
seeks refuge in my embrace’s haze.

Her arms encircle me in part,
with gentle, humble, loving hold,
tilting her head back, she gazes up,
her eyes revealing a story untold.

It’s love mingled with fear and art,
a bashful dance of the heart,
I feel, rather than see, the swelling
of her tender heart, a precious part.

I calm her fears, she finds her peace,
with maidenly pride, she confesses,
and thus, I win my sweet Genevieve,
my radiant and beautiful bride, blessed.

:: 07.16.2023 ::