My baby
be okay
and love
and love
give to us
Just give
to US
My love
speak now
every day
is alive
and i drift
off to your world
I am rumbling
i am the love heart
that no one can see!
Im waiting for you.
they don’t know fuckery
and fuckery is dead —
heavy is the heart
Into the deepest Stars
that most do not know |
Heavy is the Astronauts
Exploring the Interstellar
World where we invisited
once before ______ .
i am a traveler
across the earth’s face
and i travel alone.
I have no world
just this sun
it beats down upon me.
He! who has seen everything,
I will make known! to the lands.
I will! teach about him who
experienced all things,
…alike,
He carved on a stone
stela all of his toils,
and built the wall of Uruk-Haven,
\
the wall of the sacred Eanna Temple, the holy sanctuary.
Look at its wall which gleams like!copper(?),
inspect its inner wall, the likes of which no one can equal
Seall!air!a!balla!a!deàrrsadh!mar!copar(?),
sgrùdadh!am!balla!a-staigh,!na!likes!nach!urrainn!
Gabh!gabh!cinn-latha!stairsneach!stoneOOit!bho!t-seann!am!
Rach!faisg!don!Temple!Eanna!,!àite-còmhnaidh!Ishtar,!
leithid!mar!chan eil!rìgh!no!duine!a-riamh!co-ionann!
Rach!suas!air!balla!Uruk!agus!coisich!mun cuairt,
sgrùdadh!a!bhun-stèidh,!sgrùdadh!a!obair-brice!
Nach!nach!(eadhon!am!cridhe!)!an!structar!bhrèige!dèante!de!àth!brige!
nach
Aon!mòr-lìog!baile-mòr,!aon!lìog!gàrraidhean!palm,!aon!lìog!ghalltachd,!an!sgìre!fosgailte(?)!de!
an!Ishtar!teampall,
trì!lìogaidean!agus!an!sgìre!fosgailte(?)!de!Uruk!it!(am!balla)!cuartachadh.
Lorg!am!bogsa!copair!clàr!,
fosgail!a!…!a!ghlas!de!umha,!
cuir às!luathachadh!a!fhosgladh!dhìomhair!
Gabh!agus!leugh!a-mach!bho!chlàr!lapis!lazuli!
: 01.05.2024 ::
Beneath the boughs so green,
Where love and I recline serene,
And echo a joyous song,
To the bird’s melodious throng,
Approach, approach, approach:
Here shall we find,
No adversarial wind,
Only winter and weather wild.
For those who spurn ambition’s chase,
And cherish the sun’s warm embrace,
Feeding on life’s simple fare,
Content with what is granted there,
Approach, approach, approach:
Here shall we find,
No foes unkind,
Only winter and weather wild.
For those who spurn ambition’s chase,
And cherish the sun’s warm embrace,
Feeding on life’s simple fare,
Content with what is granted there,
Approach, approach, approach:
Here shall we find,
No foes unkind,
Only winter and weather wild.
In this haven of tranquil reprieve,
Where hearts and nature interweave,
A sanctuary free from strife,
Embracing the rhythm of simple life,
Approach, approach, approach:
Here shall we find,
No tumultuous grind,
Only winter and weather wild.
As seasons change with a gentle hand,
Through the cycles, we understand,
The beauty in moments, both calm and reviled,
Embracing the dance of winter and weather wild.”’*
*BEAT, BEATH, BEATH, BAet iA LOVE!
:: 12.25.2023 ::
Beneath the boughs so green,
Where love and I recline serene,
And echo a joyous song,
To the bird’s melodious throng,
Approach, approach, approach:
Here shall we find,
No adversarial wind,
Only winter and weather wild.
For those who spurn ambition’s chase,
And cherish the sun’s warm embrace,
Feeding on life’s simple fare,
Content with what is granted there,
Approach, approach, approach:
Here shall we find,
No foes unkind,
Only winter and weather wild.
For those who spurn ambition’s chase,
And cherish the sun’s warm embrace,
Feeding on life’s simple fare,
Content with what is granted there,
Approach, approach, approach:
Here shall we find,
No foes unkind,
Only winter and weather wild.
In this haven of tranquil reprieve,
Where hearts and nature interweave,
A sanctuary free from strife,
Embracing the rhythm of simple life,
Approach, approach, approach:
Here shall we find,
No tumultuous grind,
Only winter and weather wild.
As seasons change with a gentle hand,
Through the cycles, we understand,
The beauty in moments, both calm and reviled,
Embracing the dance of winter and weather wild.”’*
*BEAT, BEATH, BEATH, BAet iA LOVE!
:: 12.25.2023 ::
In chambers dim, where shadows weave,
My mirrored self I dare perceive.
Pink roses bloom, a painted guise,
While feathered thoughts take silent flight.
My tongue, a tempest, words like wind,
To whirl and toss the soul within.
To swim in depths where echoes call,
Unfettered feet on marble sprawl.
A mermaid’s sigh, a whispered plea,
To breathe, to see, eternally.
The headlights dim, the vision nears,
Of hands outstretched, assuaging fears.
Less, I craved, from twilight’s hold,
Than waters mingled, stories told.
One night, a tapestry complete,
A whisper spun in slumber’s sheet.
But eyes unflinching, hearts unknown,
No answering pulse to claim my own.
The mirrored pond, a frozen scene,
Reflects the moon, where women convene.
Men, enigmas cloaked in night,
Like roots that twist in hidden light.
The house once shared, a severed stem,
From continents of black and white condemn.
Unmoored, we drift, in yearning’s thrall,
Then scatter, like lashes in the fall.
My own, like pollen, ether frail,
Revealing truth, a single veil.
Yet, codex locked, a name takes flight,
A searing brand, defying blight.
Life, a quick waltz with disdained breath,
The moon a mirror, mocking death.
Before the wind, before the end,
A voice of dreams, where shadows bend.
The garden slumbers, beasts unfed,
Its lights extinguished, hopes unshed.
His women, ghosts in sterile white,
No feast of senses, pure of light.
Within this introspection’s well,
A teardrop falls, the story’s spell.
Unspoken words, like embers cold,
In mirrored fragments, hearts unfold.
So let me dwell in this retreat,
Where Dickinson’s whispers softly meet.
With introspective gaze, I trace,
The paths of yearning, etched in space.
:: 12.22.2023 ::
The poem “BEAUTIFUL WORLD” reflects a positive sentiment and an appreciation for the concept of peace and unity. However, it can benefit from a few adjustments to enhance its structure and poetic elements. Here’s a revised version:
In a realm where peace commands the globe, A vast world, a familial probe. Love echoes through each boundary, Embracing all, one grand symphony.
O, world of beauty, in your embrace, A singular family finds its place. I cherish you, my dear Earth’s swirl, In love and peace, my beautiful world.
A draught of sorrow, Siren-tears refined,
From depths within, where shadows darkly brood,
Applied to Hope, a bitter salve to bind,
And Fear, a tonic, where Desire had wooed.
What blunders danced within my blinded heart,
While bliss, a mirage, shimmered in the sun!
My eyes, unmoored, played a delirious part
In fevered dreams, a battle lost and won.
Yet, pain’s embrace unlocks a precious truth,
That evil’s kiss refines the good we knew,
And Love, reborn from ruins of uncouth Desire,
Ascends renewed, more potent, ever true.
So humbled, to my quiet I return,
Enriched by loss, a profit thrice the cost,
And find, in ashes, lessons yet to learn,
A purer flame, where heartache loved the most.
MY eyes shine
like love
Hey you big Star
come here
Hey you big heart
climb me
(shelter for two)
it’s sex and summer
loving as God loves
it’s no crime to move
inside of you
I shake (it’s a tool /
device \ i tried (look up
toward the skies but my
eyes burn)
\i thank God for the music
inside my head — matches
the feeling inside your skin______
no confusion __ | it’s summer
inside my love and how i love you
I think God is moving this time
it’s no misunderstanding …
(i move and love you)
I move and look up at the skies
seeing all of you.
:: 12.12.2023 ::
Poet’s Notes:
The poem “Shining Eyes” by the imagined Nobel laureate poet is a sensual and passionate exploration of love, nature, and spirituality. The poet employs vivid imagery and emotive language to convey a profound connection between the speaker and their beloved, intertwining themes of love, nature, and divine presence.
The title, “Shining Eyes,” suggests a radiant and intense emotion, immediately drawing attention to the significance of the speaker’s gaze. The repetition of “My eyes shine like love” emphasizes the emotional intensity, equating the brightness of the eyes with the luminosity of love itself.
The poem then addresses both a celestial entity and a metaphorical “big heart,” inviting them to join in a shared experience. The imagery of a “shelter for two” creates an intimate and private space for the lovers, suggesting a profound connection that extends beyond the physical.
The lines “it’s sex and summer / loving as God loves” introduce a sensual and spiritual dimension to the poem. The juxtaposition of physical intimacy with the divine suggests that the act of love is sacred and transcendent. The poet seems to assert that the celebration of physical desire is not only natural but also aligned with a higher, spiritual purpose.
The parenthetical expression “(it’s a tool / device)” adds a layer of complexity, perhaps suggesting that love and sexuality can be seen as instruments or mechanisms for connection and understanding.
The speaker’s gaze toward the skies, despite the burning eyes, may symbolize a quest for transcendence or a connection with something greater than themselves. The invocation of God and gratitude for the music inside the poet’s head further reinforces the spiritual undertones of the poem.
The use of ellipses and dashes in “no confusion __ | it’s summer” creates a pause, allowing readers to reflect on the significance of the season and its metaphorical association with the warmth of love. The repetition of “I move and love you” emphasizes the dynamic nature of the speaker’s emotions and actions.
In the concluding lines, the poet suggests a profound unity with the beloved, seeing “all of you” when looking up at the skies. This line could symbolize a sense of completeness, as if the act of love has connected the speaker not only with the beloved but with the entire universe.
Overall, the poem “Shining Eyes” combines sensuality, spirituality, and a celebration of nature to create a rich tapestry of emotions and experiences. The poet’s ability to weave together these themes with evocative language contributes to the poem’s depth and resonance.
Upon my pallet, stark and bare,
A visage dances on the wall,
A spectral form, with chilling stare,
Where shadows fail to heed the call.
A phantom flitting, quick and dark,
Whose scowls the very furniture shun,
Save this poor bed, where fear’s cruel mark
And my own lies have made me one.
With neither hope nor comfort’s shroud,
I wait, where angst its tendrils weave,
A prisoner to the night’s dark cloud,
Where dreams and waking fears conceive.
Oh, shadowed form, why haunt my rest?
Release me from this haunted place,
Where hope and solace are repressed,
And leave no trace, but empty space.
Even though I know
I suppose to show
my fear!
How i feel the power of my heart
to destroy those i hate
i thought ~ destroying them
makes me them even though i know
i suppose i should show my
love | I'[m just the same
just rattled within my soul cage.
:: 12.08.2023 ::
If God knew the whispers of our hearts,
The tales woven in the threads of our arts,
In the dance of words, a cosmic ballet,
A serenade of souls, night and day.
In little circles, our stories intertwine,
A dance of fate, a love so divine.
Expanding spaces, where dreams take flight,
Igniting the heavens, a celestial light.
Oh! She’s a woman
ahead of her time
and never gives out or in
We may stumble in our little mess,
Yet find solace in our shared distress.
“I may love you,” a refrain we sing,
A melody of hope, on love’s fragile wing.
Not always constant, this love we bear,
Yet doubt not its essence, lingering in the air.
For in the doubt, a testament to our truth,
A dance of contradictions, the fountain of youth.
God only knows the depth of our bond,
As we traverse life’s path, and respond.
If you leave me, let the world display,
A testament to love, in its own unique way.
Show nothing to you, my departing friend,
For in the end, love’s echo shall transcend.
The world may weep, or silently grieve,
Yet in the silence, our love shall never leave.
Ah, laaah, the symphony of our existence,
An ode to love, with unwavering persistence.
In every note, a promise to endure,
For love’s journey, timeless and pure.
:: 12.06.2023 ::
i am almost blind
ChatGPT
In twilight’s grasp, where shadows softly play,
A tale of love unfolds, in Dickinson’s way.
“If God knew” the whispers of our hearts,
A quiet hymn, where our story starts.
Oh! She’s a woman ahead of her time,
A poet in rhyme, a soul so sublime.
Never gives out or in, her spirit strong,
In love’s mystery, she journeys along.
In little circles, our tales combine,
A dance of souls, in a rhythm so fine.
Expanding spaces, dreams take flight,
Igniting stars in love’s boundless night.
Through the veil of blindness, you see,
The essence of love, pure and free.
In our shared mess, a sanctuary found,
A love profound, in silence, we’re bound.
“I may love you,” a fragile refrain,
Echoing softly, in joy and pain.
Not always constant, yet ever true,
A dance of contradictions, just like Emily knew.
God only knows the depth we share,
As we traverse life with tender care.
If you depart, let the world portray,
A testament to love, in its own array.
Show nothing to you, my departing friend,
For in love’s silence, we transcend.
The world may weep, or silently grieve,
Yet our love endures, you’ll always believe.
Ah, laaah, the symphony we compose,
In verses whispered, where love flows.
In every note, a promise so sure,
For love’s journey, enduring and pure.
:: 12.06.2023 ::
i am almost blind
Revised: 07.16.2023 ::
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 clean 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.
 | EPRobles on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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