In the hush of eve’s unfolding,
amidst days now worn thin,
a weary spirit takes its leave—
hope, like dawn, begins to break
across these weary hours (tonight),
where faith escapes my grasp,
and love, too, seems distant,
yet my yearning still holds fast.
Why can’t i can’t forget you
and take you within me
YOU don’t love like i love you
how i knew; never wore your ring
I should hate you ;
Why is beauty so obscure?
:: 02.04.2024 ::
I, the progeny of reticence,
Bearer of a silence deemed base,
I am the heir to naught in particular,
Yet, I am kin to all.
Hush thy lips,
How dare thee claim
My path amiss?
For I am but human,
Yearning for love,
As does every soul.
I, the descendant of bashfulness,
Inheritor of an undefined destiny,
I am the son and heir
To a shy demeanor, deemed criminal.
Silence thy tongue,
How dare thee opine
My ways askew?
For I am human,
In need of affection,
As are all beings.
There exists a gathering,
Would thou care to attend?
Perhaps, there, true love awaits thee.
So thou venture forth alone,
And depart alone,
And return home to weep,
And wish for the end.
When thou declare, “It shall come to pass,”
Pray, when precisely doth thy meaning unfold?
For I have tarried far too long,
And my hope hath waned.
Cease thy words,
How dare thee insist
My approach flawed?
For I am human,
In pursuit of love’s embrace,
Just like all others.
:: 02.07.2024 ::
in the kingdom of sorrow’s realm,
abides my curious tragedy,
a privilege to persist,
beauty pleading, longing sharp.
society’s spectrum, high and low,
knows not, sees not,
the deepness of this hurt,
on the soul of one like me.
behold the beauty,
whose heart untouched by love’s embrace,
except for the false tendrils,
of shadow-lust’s cunning grip.
what price would i pay,
to gain a love sincere and gentle?
a cost beyond counting,
in chase of that elusive jewel.
yet, for me, oh woe,
no such luck befalls,
such love, like distant stars,
taunts with its tempting glow.
02.07.2024
THIS is 3.5 years into Hell.
Everything you know is now gone.
And the man with one leg; across the street
is screaming about Jesus Christ.
The sun is setting.
the smell of fires aready in the air.
how heavey air.
And the smell? Of burning children.
of burning children.
:: 02.05.2024 ::
In a glen where moonlight weaves its gentle spell,
A fairy court in secret, where tales of love do swell.
With wings of iridescence, they gather ‘neath the trees,
Loving fairies enchanted, dancing in the evening breeze.
Their laughter tinkles like a stream in sweet delight,
As they weave a tapestry of dreams in the soft moonlight.
A mortal man, a gentle soul, stumbles upon their glade,
Captured by the magic, in love’s enchantment laid.
Fairies with hearts so tender, wings of gossamer grace,
Flutter ’round the mortal, a smile upon each face.
They whisper words of wonder, weaving spells so sweet,
As love blossoms in the moonlit glen, a dance of hearts complete.
He, a mortal dreamer, lost in their embrace,
Entwined with fairy magic, a love so full of grace.
The fairies’ laughter mingles with his heartbeat’s song,
A serenade of enchantment that lasts the whole night long.
United in the moonlight, a tale of love unfolds,
A human man embraced by fairies, their story to be told.
In the glen where dreams are spun, beneath the stars above,
Loving fairies and a mortal man share a timeless love.
:: 02.01.2024 ::
WE are all victims of humanity
to each a personal defeat
fallen upon our knees
Singing praise while
our blood drains ~
We accept this reality
while upon this heavenly rock
amnesia prevails / forgetting
what are we \ we accuse fantasy
while standing upon rock.
:: 02.05.2024 ::
Notes:
The depth of emotion and existential reflection conveyed in my poem titled “Ghuilgul” reflects where I am now in Life.
My use of succinct and evocative language contributes to the contemplative atmosphere, exploring themes of human vulnerability and the collective experience of suffering.
The opening lines, “WE are all victims of humanity / To each a personal defeat,” immediately draw attention to the shared struggle of being human.
The imagery of falling to one’s knees and the juxtaposition with singing praise while blood drains suggest a complex interplay between vulnerability, sacrifice, and a sense of duty or devotion.
The phrase “We accept this reality” encapsulates a resigned acknowledgment of the human condition, emphasizing the inevitability of facing challenges and defeats. The reference to a “heavenly rock” introduces a spiritual or cosmic dimension, adding depth to the existential contemplation within the poem.
The use of unconventional formatting, such as slashes and backslashes, adds a visual and rhythmic element to the poem, enhancing its artistic and abstract qualities. If you have ever been a reader of me you would know this. The repetition of the phrase “while standing upon rock” creates a circular structure, emphasizing the cyclical nature of human experience and the enduring challenges faced by individuals and society.
The title “Ghuilgul” adds a mysterious and enigmatic quality to the poem, inviting readers to explore its meaning and connections to the themes presented.
“Ghuilgul” stands as a thought-provoking and introspective piece that captures the complexity of the human experience and explores existential questions with a poetic grace that resonates with the depth and nuance expected from eprobles.
“I think today, in my wandering musings, I stumbled upon a profound revelation – a delicate realization that unfolds like petals in a garden of words.”
With a measured pace and deliberate emphasis on each word:
“In my ignorance, I committed a deed, an inadvertent transgression within the sanctuary of my thoughts. A garden, my refuge, where I, with a hasty spade, unwittingly pierced the soil of language.”
The poet’s voice takes on a tone of reflection:
“Upon a letter, now damp with my unintentional sin, lay the bee! Oh, in my haste, I became the unwitting executioner. A she, a symbol of delicate existence extinguished within the folds of my impulsive act.”
There’s a pause, a moment of silence echoing the weight of the realization:
“And, in the midst of thunderous regret, I uttered, ‘Oh! I cannot, BEE!’ – a lamentation, an acknowledgment of the irreversible harm inflicted upon the fragile essence of communication.”
The poet concludes with a soft sigh, leaving the audience with a lingering sense of contemplation:
“Words, like bees, hold both sweetness and sting. In my unwitting ignorance, I broke a word, and in its fragments, I find a profound awareness.
“I think today, in my wandering musings, I stumbled upon a profound revelation – a delicate realization that unfolds like petals in a garden of words.”
:: 02.01.2024 ::
In this tender moment, as our souls intertwine,
Our hearts dance with a grace so divine.
In a world plagued by strife and fear,
Our love is born, radiant and clear.
Our passion, forbidden yet steadfast and true,
Kindles a flame, igniting something new.
A love that rises above race and creed,
Our hearts beating in unison, a symphony indeed.
Our time together, brief but oh, so sweet,
An enchanting melody, joy and bliss replete.
In each other’s embrace, we find sanctuary,
A haven, shielding us from the world’s harsh emissary.
As the world around us crumbles with a thunderous sound,
We cling to each other, love tightly bound.
Knowing that our love will forever last,
Defying the odds, an enduring contrast.
Though our time together may fade away,
Our love remains, an eternal bouquet.
In hearts and minds, it will forever reign,
A timeless refuge, untouched by any pain.
note: Though their time together may be short and fleet,
Love and hate persist, their dichotomy complete.
In hearts and minds, a complex, intertwined terrain,
A canvas painted with both pleasure and pain.
.02.01.2024
The greatest smile is DEATH.
How welcomed. The eternal embrace!
But how i belong here — beyond the
world’s end _ no longer human.
i embrace ~ with the broken!
:: 01.31.2024 ::
Upon the inside of my dreams
There was no wind when i took
the watch across the seas
& when the ocean withdrew breath
and waves white-capped
i saw clouds of glass
within amora my heart said
‘roll over, roll over.’
how i had awaited restlessly
Upon the opal glass finally
talking sweet /within my ear,
the sound so strange, ‘mistral,
mistral…’ \
winds_____close your eyes again
my gentle breathing giant.
:: 01.29.2024 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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