i
AM small BUT
GREATLY expansive
the little Rivers
appear large
to small eyes
they(while)ATE
wheat Harvest Mice
twitchingly mild
dancing smoke-TIME
inside
::02.01.2022 ::
Tag Archives: #art
i am small BUT
CONGLOMERATE UNIVERSES
IF four nails secured the Cross of Life
should i entirely ask of god why Tiger Mart
sells deluxe burritos but 7-11 has hot dogs
happily the uninformed droop bloated question
marks — like a scar across the mile of
my sacred walks_____
And if i should receive an answer more or less
deserved, God go in peace and spawn a supermarket
and wall street to rape all mankind from their
health and well-being –infinitely in your
schizo’d deity-mind.
So i wish to meet a girl who has a womb of happiness
to spawn a new universe! Please?
her tiniest whispering
invitation is like a clock
striking my heart \oh shit! tic toc yes tockey tic.
:: 08-08-2015 ::
BALCONIED TREES
WHEN awakened by a sudden thing as Life
what to do?
i took my mouth in hand and walked down
the mountain to a river. My curious tale
behind me it was the bleat of a sound within
my throat that ragweed spoke.
Never a mystery as the ones i’ve met
have potted the balconied trees upon the
rows of my thoughts.
There! A sparrow that has fallen from
my dreams into the progress of strawberry-
wax lullabies i had once forgotten.
:: 12.21.2021 ::
LETO
[Apollo’s mother has hidden beauty]
Leto my Leto!
Artemis saw your hidden modesty
and forged fire and lightning within
the womb of Worlds
came Apollo Oh! Apollo!
:: 12.21.2021 ::
PINK BALLOON INSIDE YOUR HEART
Oh wait, for me wait as i once did
for that pink balloon inside your
heart / that cares only for warmth
and love | the likely process of
the decay of a body becomes that
tear inside my heart \as i hardly
notice the feel of time fleeing
pain and darkness in her arms
or her thigh between day and
tomorrow.
:: 11.30.2021 ::
LOVE & ART
Love is more than art
it is The sensation.
A feeling of being,
where even when we
all can cry!
SORROW BEYOND TEARS
I have bound myself to God and to the Mysteries; all things also I comprehend.
AS love is not given to the wise man for his own personal gain. Love is neither given to the savage for his own personal gain, nor to the poor man for his own personal gain, nor to the country for his own personal gain, nor to the lonely man for his own personal gain.
NO.
It is given to the sick, in pain and those deep within despair and loneliness, for their own personal gain is not a thought given.
As Love is not given to the prostitute for her own personal gain; to the youth for their own personal gain; for the Love is the product of long awaited joy, and the joys and sorrows of the individual cannot be their own!
:: 05.19.2021 ::
PAINT JAR
i INHALED a summer bug
down my dry throat
— so lovely its okay \
so happy because i died /
and reborned years ago
within a paint jar —
Firefly heart; hot night
booked for years & every
day i was scared; lit my
candles until I found God.
:: 08.15.2020 ::
STRO9KE ME
WILL everybody hear (if you’re within this game) )a baby ANEURYSM ::::- poets writing to kill someTHING :::- ELSEKeep a firm handshake — pen ineye -=–contributions elude grammar Nazis’ – so you got yournumber down : now sit down ____????–loved you so much you made me sick– make my backbone slide –_ move yourself into my FACE: –> glyphand butterfly: are you listening nowcause’ it ain’t no joke: keep yourfancy pants on and learn me.
:: 07.17.2020 ::
CONFESSION XVIII
MY confession : what be it may
stately said I do adore
hedonistic lore and my passion
borders beyond the day of light
into a fray some may fright
But at the end of any day
a brilliant sun and nymph of light
rules out all it is my sweet
love for life
::01/20/2014::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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