When dreams drop
suddenly
upon a tender
heart; falling,
crashing, dying-ly
we know Death has come.
to see Love
perish is a stare
within the Eye
of God and mostly
the thing unspoken.
So better than a star
which falls from
heaven upon the Earth.
To burn quickly
provides no goodbye!
:: 02-25-2015 ::
i am so thankfully
nothing; once
thinking more
than life was i!
but to walk steps
made of life;
a birth and ex-
pectations schooled
the temperament
of my elements
and now so freed!
and thankfully
i think no more
but live this life!
:: 02-10-2015 ::
I think today
i broke a word
in my ignorance
i did the deed
Within my garden
i stabbed with spade
upon a letter in damp soil,
lay the bee! in my haste
i slay-She! and shouted
in thunder: “Oh!
It cannot, BEE!”
:: – ::
Oh, poet? Do speak!
the mumbling-foolery
a pompous excursion
of expanded hearts
By anonymous nameless ages
we are the forgotten souls
let our words survive
and what is the flesh
when matched against words?
NOTHING!
sO, –i PRAISE
the temple God
of scribbled notes
and let my skin fold
inside the vase of time
:: 01-22-2015 ::
The weary seams of soft-silk souls
seem too loosened to visit my world
but they do. And often by haunts,
their dreams become my own; as
a sin unowned; rarely my feet walk
within God’s garden silently.
The uninvited adore my skin
and breathe especially at night.
As many intervals between life
and There, so too my awareness
of Them, those who with ghostly
sculptor-hands, turn heads
and minds too. It’s my words,
my word, too, They built the
bridge across which I now go
while I sleep reading the
dark book of the Beginning.
:: 01-22-2015 ::
today i met death
beyond a tiny door
just a few steps
away from the dream
and you looked
through the window
i saw you scream
with your halo
dancing upon your head
i’m now home all alone
and brimstone sings
“she’s still alive,
all in white and you
the eternal darkness”
i sleep fitfully tonight
the worst part of days
but i play alongside
oh, yeah my fears
and i touch your skin
makes me shiver god
and why oh hell yeah
why am i still alive
hey, oh my, your halo
lights up the night
i’m just beyond
a tiny door
:: 01-09-2015 ::
y IS a nothing, little KNOWN
childPAIN dead while LIFE
walks in [EXPLODING room]
walk! cry,
i had a spoon
babyMouth and SHOUT
‘why!…oh why! Meaty-hand
across the tender skin ofTears
sorry you forgot Jesus and
angels; Pontius saved me
and I ate tree bark days
so sorry while i sing
‘I am so me, alive
i am so child…’
the boss walks through
in my remembered blood
blood, song, words, pain
and i (h)ate the flesh
of my life!
y IS a nothing
little known child
dying each moment we
question, ‘is it so
is it so, so? i’m
still alive so alive
and i burn so burn
burn burn burn burn
all the lost hopes
of love that never
tried as hard as me,
just aFreak needing
the love of Jesus
:: 01-09-2015 ::
i have seen that sun of you like
the light
(my heartMOTH drawn by warmth-fields
and honeyWORDS i hunger in eagerSoul…
…. . …
. .. . . ………………….*
the weak muscle (i never knew strength)
beating inside the castleChest breast
OF too many battles of courage
and weakness fell these walls of life
the stir is unutterably a broken wing
dreams of thrilling life never known
forever
my phantom feeling Fields
when summer is born
–in the mouth
where wet souls
kiss the body
of
love
should
we die
:: 01-01-2015 ::
I dreamed disgusting me
and see my hands so red
leaving pain and hurt
the dream i hated became
what I ever was
just a child confused
and i wished when i pulled
apart the wings of butterflies
i could be a wingless one too
so i am and never flew
like my butterflies we walk
oh yes, it burns butterwalk
each step from flight
oh, burn, burn! I could
never say what I mean
and express in my words
what a little boy feels
when life was crushed
from his heart so I smile
seems the wings died
when I walked out the door
another person into the world
And I forgive the shadow
who kisses me instead of love
I saw a spark inside my heart
it separates life from death
and butterwalk between both
:: 12-05-2014 ::
I loved it when alive
and now so cold.
I crave it more,
to be contented
just like me;
if just a breath
it speaks i should
love it like
when it lived.
Until the grave
it buried lay,
in it’s dreams,
and all my tears
i have the key
to unlock the life
that lives in me.
It lives within
a drop of tear.
If I may have it
when it’s dead,
I crave it more
if it speaks.
I should love it
like when it lived.
:: 11-11-2014 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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