THIS POET WROTE:
while leaves march down an empty alleysuddenly she is barely holding upon the blue skies /of punch red-blue\of a galant southern magnolia sweetand fresh of a sudden burning smellfruit for the fallen souls are we forever together.
far so for father trick of mind/here is a Strange Tale\upon his tomb stone. this POET WROTE
:: 07.13.2020 ::
Tag Archives: #art
THIS POET WROTE:
WHATEVER MAY BE WITHIN YOUR DREAMS JUST DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME
LIGHT (frightening) fog upon the hood
and woods so many stars shining
so brightly above and fluttering heart
of mine (this weather shall keep us together)
oh, say all every night
& kiss me
& if you miss
me hold just tight
i am almost blue
STAR fading but i linger on Dear
and shall linger unto dawn dear
(dreams till sweet rose petals
grow all within your footprints
to ward (oh ba bah bud)
me___ so now still craving your
kiss my Sweet Dreams Dreaming
— behind you.
:: 07.10.2020 ::
QUOD numquam accedit ad lumen aeternum (THAT NEVER GOES UNTO THE ETERNAL LIFE)
THAT HAS never approached the eternal
light of my Heart
as: Nunc rcm unguentorum,
relish the night as
when tears are not enough
the end is closer
toward a new beginning
than the fears recessed toward
that One who Always Lost
but ——> but not us.
:: 07.10.2020 ::
as a young boy i was hungry
so skinny & although my Life
was so sad I laughed.
I saw all my closest family
scramble to eat just for a day
more — i , a boy, saw devastation
,looking into every man they turned
on. every cup i drank was more
than a smoke: but every man who
made my mother, sisters and me feel
so damn cheap — i shall read a paper
with large holes — called 666 — the
news of the world — she died.
: 07.08.020 ::
B A M C L A C K – S A H – D A M N
Bam clack-sah-damn
oh Cecilia
my heart is breaking
until you
(Bam clack-sah-damn)
save me so begging you
oh-oh…
make a new type of Art
just for you if only
you come back to my head
& my heart
oh Cecilia
Bam clack-sah-damn!
:07.08.2080 ::
A LASTING DREAM
i dreamed a dream so wonderfully sweet
dreamed a dream of if and then what
i dreamed
struggling to never awaken
struggling to never remember
i dreamed
and within many tears awoken
wishing i had never ever
dreamed the dream so wonderfully sweet.
:: 06.21.2020 ::
FLAT-DONUT FLYING DELICIOUS ENIGMA
LOATHING a cheap thought i sought
wider walls of discernment — i broke
my spinal-cracker back by the blow-back
{shoot, darn-it} dams are made by beavers
:looks like you give a damn
my thick binary-filter of Zero & one
: like , over mE___ hon-knee i
scraped my low-lyin’ heart for many
Human-sad years; i just want you so
; it maybe babe drives me a bit mad:
—///synth-comm :093492034 — disconnect |
interstellar comm link uncoupled: charges
apply during FTL (Faster-Than-Light) Travel
outside Federation parameters. [Remember:
we are dangerous to anything other than
humans — and how we still treat ourselves!]
:: 05.19.2020 ::
LITTLE PIECES OF ME
i was tipsy-topsy turvy thinking
like a dreamy breakin’ heart
if you every go; so like me lonely
–you like my jealously had a temper
and possess love –>like i hated you
be free it’s me without anger ; when it
gets down it gets deeply lonely — pink
frustration and low-granted trees-tree! No one will see it my
Way: it’s me with a high root and low canopy
so like me without the anger — fool…
a free wish of winds — allow the free
moments come forth –>…..no anger.
when it gets down it gets lonely
some kind’a lost; what a mantra my monster
what a ‘coming back’ to push back — so you see i am me without
Seeing all that anger once around me: makes me mad made me sad
and sadder until i broke into little Pieces of Me.
it is a Crime to Break Down
while Saving Souls
:: 05.14.2020 ::
GOGH’S FIELDS OF GOLD
HAVE you never
ever walk
-ed the edge of
fields so yellow
they smell of Gold?
–the wheat fields
of Vincent Van Gogh
he was a bastard
to most but greatly
to ‘self’ –>kill
the personality
but never the Art
nor the Soul
:: 04.29.2020 ::
Recent Comments
EPRobles on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE Adam Fisher on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE EPRobles on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… R. Marshall on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… Stefan on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV…
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
You must be logged in to post a comment.