she wore
mortician’s
makeup above
the once
breathing
pores || i died
once,twice &
more ||then buried
was she within a
barren field of
nothing more.
:: 07.12.2020 ::
WHILE the Cherubim sing their deeply forlangen hymns
…Oh, how beautiful! Oh, how sensually sweet!
That i am racked brokenly as suffocating despair
fills my Thoughts! My Mind! Not for this first
time am i drunk with expectation: as a child i
drank the Living Light. A price unseen until a
price paid!
Let us break disharmony and seal a pact with All!
To re-create a promise.
:: 05.10.2020 ::
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 ::
a creeping chill throws me cold: t he
skies have t urn SEPIA AND i completely
utterly melt into each word
birth’d — this elegie betrays the poet;
a confession unburdens the Spirit — you
are reading about the me of ‘i’ have always
loved you |mia /i shall meet you again to-now
within the theater of my Soul sure, sometimes
i have concern for the world as it continues
to devour my Feelings and sensibilities.
when can i love you again?
:: 03.24.2020 ::
when the heart is shattered the world turns black & cold
you either swim in the light of dust (across sunlit-Glory)
roads or float through life & space
so fuC*ing a l one
unless i am with you
the walls & madness become
a nuclear-cloud of fears
when the heart is shattered
bruised-Love accents are lips
spokenWild and the heart’s
echoes are as musicSplendor
S W I M into space
Orion hides your Face
I’d die with you if
sunlit-Glory is ever
d e s t r o y e d.
:: 03.06.2020 ::
poetry is more than words
it is a stage
it is a canvas
it is the sky
and more
by colliding objects
by smothering silences
by squelching shouts
there is the rhythm
of a post-language
with images
with idea
with signs
eventually born
in eternal force!
:: 05-10-2019 ::
e.p.robles(c)
my sweet precious Living
Life by a kindest Soul
before rains the Sun
does not know Tears
are small Oceans in
largest doses becomes
brilliantly sparked
Emotions
my Sweet Precious
Life —
i am living spaces
as stairs climbing
two-by-two in Time
toward the Heart’s
goals!
:: 11-09-2018 ::
As my roses are in bloom the cedar box is locked away
with safely kept dreams.
The Light hits the window’s pane shattering forever
into pieces illuminated thoughts; my trembling fingers
touching the floor’s veins — long sturdy planks braver
than my bones, my spine and all pain.
Did you know that when the proud Moon rises from the
descending heights of waning daylight my roses are still
within their magnificent bloom?
And my hands are without purchase for the South spins
and North is beyond my reach.
But my roses are in bloom and my dreams safely kept.
:: 10-15-2018 ::
these feelings bleeding
penetration of Spirit
these emotions swimming
indecision is winning
help me —
i’ve got no mission
help me —
i’m full of rivets
i’m all broke within
my insides
these thoughts crawling
further away from god
you cannot help my situation
you cannot lift the skies
you cannot breach the walls
of where my Soul has
gone to die
help me —
i’m waking up drowning
help me —
i’m too complicated
And these feelings bleeding
a penetration of my Spirit
:: 09-28-2018 ::
Soothing wooden
window pane!
Where hope dwelt
upon ridden raw
weight of elbows
dreaming days;
The wait as
dropping rain
the
falling snow
windy days
summer’s glow
a fall in grace!
there i knew
your face
across distant
seasons too
as stung beelike
humming buzzing
where i buried
just a memory
of you
of waiting
for you
as always
the long season
of God’s Grace!
:: 12-18-2014 ::
:: Rev 09012018 ::
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