Tag Archives: #expression

Play Dough My Love

PLAY DOUGH MY love
so pretty so smooth
within my expressive
hands i sculpted love
and wrote poems
sang songs
and stole Cupid’s
girl friend while
making ramen noodles
cause i’m a poet
living inside my head…
yeah. Eat healthy
they say to Humans__
i want to say more
but have a date with
pubg.

:: 11.12.2022 ::


Mantra of an Artist

P O E T R Y
P O V E R T Y
P O S S E S S I O N
P O S S I B I L I T I E S

:: 10.29.2022 ::


THE CHILDREN’S HOUR

A pause within the day to breathe flowers
is called the Children’s Hour.

Like the last brilliant star at sunrise.

My eyes, brilliant as any sun
does not call you to depravity.

a Day broken as a first morning
and song birds singing for grace
praise for the morning and praise all

fresh into a world in such turmoil.

Sweet new fawn born in briar
and new buds of nature painting Earth
how exquisite Nature speaks to Hearts.

Mine is sunlight
Mine is morning

and how crazy we fall elated into
confusion disregarding God’s Creation.

:: 05.28.2021 ::


THE LEVIATHAN

i’ll love you till death e’en if i’ll live
i’ll love you till death e’en if I shall live
i’ll love you till death e’en if I shall live!

for you love i do ill rise
in an age when man & flames for his beauty
shuns that proud bronze that shadows you

youth has no stage no eloquent maw
to convert his heart but alas magnifies you
doesn’t present him as you imagine

love unadorned and manifests no star
n’t be overshadowed by you or the splendors of the sky
but display your lord on the moon
— love! my god you as a match or more
smoke, flame, flame, flame that nourishes your passion
flame that is here as a key!

numb or subdued: you become such a monster
that they call you leviathan have i for you heart
and i do not anybody else’s heart.

I did not pledge your hand
I did not set the seal love is the best I have
one kind is different that which burns one’s heart

there is a fire where love burns a fire
and their fire is sweeter than mine

my love!

:: 05.19.2021 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – XXIICOUNT DOWN (4.3.21)

That blade which takes i took that made what cuts did so did I bleed and took my road: that dust and blood the path my blade had cut for me. My blood your blood my bad my flesh machinery.
i cried aloud to see if the gods were indeed touched by my rage; they did not answer and all my rage is now dust and blood without a single whisper on the sand below.
i did not fall in this glade but it made me fall.
Back to the Restaurant Hip hip ho!
There’s a man in the town who has a silver tongue and so hard to hear, but loud and clear,
he could read the babbles of the natives, they say he can see into people’s hearts
just by looking at them.
That he is wise beyond his years when it comes to the things of the heart, or at least the heart of men.
For this reason we cannot quite explain he is the host of the good banquet and so the heart in the heart of man is a place that deserves his much deserved
tender touch.

What are you looking for? You have asked me many times before. And each time cannot seem to find you. Is it my age? i am an old man. Maybe it is my hair maybe i am ungainly. Perhaps i don’t look the part. The thing is i don’t like them as they’re everything a man should be.
But then there’s a thought maybe they’re trying to eat you. In the middle of winter the sun won’t shine and a man will see only darkness, but the sun isn’t what i mean but you’re a man so you know what i’m getting at.
Of course you do — you’re a man and you have your masculine way of thinking.
Maybe they look different, a lady with makeup she wears it as camouflage as her intentions are to seduce you and are veiled in its many colours.
i am the first to say a woman can’t make a man do anything they don’t want to do. But a man can, a man with a small piece of metal can do what he wants.
If they say no you can leave, leave them be.
But most aren’t like that; they seem to be of that sort, you know why, because most men have never known what real courage is.
i do.
i have it in me.
It’s inside me.

That desire that secret desire that we think will never exist
when we’re a boy.
It’s a lust, a dark lust and i have it. i am a man and you are not.
You look for it though just within you — that thing which you don’t know you had but now you do, and this thing you now desire/ you can’t help but see
it’s in you all along.
It’s you.
it’s me.
it’s her.
We’re all of this and it will only be her.
It’s you.
It’s me.
It’s her.

In the middle of winter the sun won’t shine and a man will see only darkness,
but the sun isn’t what i mean but you’re a man so you know what i’m getting at.
Yes you are a man and you know something else: a man with a small piece of metal
can do what he wants.
There is no need to look far and see what that thing is, or what she has to offer and you’ll know it when you see it.

04.03.2021 ::


GESTATION

i am held within constant gestation;
  little dots called glyph s –words
swim within my Soul.  L:0ve me if you
will but love me well if you must love
me.
    this is another ‘birth’ and its name
is the subject of this tiny xpreshun
of wurd.

;; 05.13. 2020 ;;


DYING MEat

We’re dying meat all inside
unexpressed confessions so,
kill me /dark deep dive
all for your pleasure re-
gardless of type of weather:
we guard your dying MEat
always dying for your meat’s
car-crash weather/we live or
die is not a question for any
Soul\

:: 03.22.2020 ::


Solitary Flower

HERE is a silent moment
bathed in calmness
and unfettered within
Light and Comfort!
i do not ask of its
origin and do thank
its presence, Life;
so like a solitary
flower growing from
within the cracks
of the world’s side-
walks.

:: 02.08.2020 ::


TO FORGOTTEN NAMES

No need! No deed. Just now the sun has
come to rise (and you are proud?) that her breasts
are spread upon your bed. The spider laughs near
the tightest corner of the room, but shameful you
forgot her name. To those that have offended me
none more than disheveled men who call themselves
gentlemen. Mother! Let us succumb to temptation
that brings us to harm.

:: 05-07-2019 ::


REGRET RIDES IN UPON A GHOSTLY CARRIAGE

regret rides in upon a ghostly carriage

no, nothing within it’s shell but darkness

which done to me that all is equal

the driver a bald lie of pain with memories

which road i no longer ride.

:: 04-25-2019 ::
e.p.robles (c) 2019