MY heart rests upon a
mote of dust
not forgotten but
still for us frozen
as though love absent
bursting full of sorrow
as though HistoryLand
–i forget my name//
but poplar within
the fields of my Heart.
:: 03-06-2019 ::
E.P. Robles (c) 2019
DO you have a quiet place
deeply dear, within The No
One can enter here spot?
Me too. I keep it near
the love of YOU.
(and there the brightness
of sweet peace)
all as nature knows
is best and & i eyes
know knew now yes live
yes we LIVE
(the masters of skillfully
curved romantics called
P O E T S.
:: 02-08-2019 ::
if i am l o n e l y
if now & then i sing praises
of love
of passion
the season must be Spring i like
pink and reds and your lips too
and too tulips when i taste you
Natures most beautiful Flower
there.
By the vally of too passion cries
(thighs) sighs the Aah of
committed expression.
Ah
God
let us die this little Death just now!
:: 02-08-2019 ::
EYES as large as acres that see,
some hidden things.
ORBICULAR VISUS
are secrets deeply hidden under
divided worlds.
Our smallest of small;
a globe of fragile glass,
Within the smallest of
our hands,
But by it’s Soul and by it’s
Spirit of a heart of Crystal
pass,
Tininess voices through twilight
land be heard,
the most sincerest liar —
the mind suited for war
is our sight
by this night
of all nights
heard.
:: 01-28-2019 ::
I am not the i of the world.
The days of life did some thing
that my self does not approve.
Their veiled eyes lie —
of no light that i (me of me)
hide my face within the dream;
Now the world is alone.
Does it still exist?
For no other reason than
pain it may but then not me.
Most have gone this way;
all met with rage, with
caged souls, beside humanity
isn’t that their most?
A dirty word: hello.
A nerdy bird: i feel stupid.
as if accused.
Life offers gifts
blessed are the meek.
but not for you.
Not for me.
i am not the i of the world.
:: 01-23-2019 ::
TWO inches deep within grass
prolonged but not old
There i can find, as old as
Victorian Letters, the days
of all my dreams, a breath
away from Death but held
as the Silver Legend of Life.
Orbicular seas of blue and white
soaring bird dots and breeze
the moment takes me to another
life that’s wide and timeless.
So i am as the moment frozen
held within my heart —
passion-glow embraced of one
who lives deep within the
Spirit’s roots kissed.
no dream dreamt no song sang
no rain ranged among
The Paradise of Silver Legend.
:: 01-23-2019 ::
THE power of my lost mind binds my tongue
between paper and pen obliquely bleeding
i leave it there.
esophageal –> the blue (my) heart
beneath sun setting pinks drowning squamously
and the gulls within their famous white regalia
0–oh!~ the magical patois across the
battered waves o’er the seas!
:: 05-17-2018 ::
IF heart could encompass
The entire love of life
By sight, smell and mouth,
An attack of Heart and Soul
ensues.
Is the fabric of being human too;
and the compass confused!
:: 12-28-2017 ::
THE heart has feet and bravely walks —
Frequently are of no color but all
frequently are of all hurt souls
Frequently are the dreams of all.
My own Spirit
My own screams
My own broken heart
And back to the square
of needing
As often a cranny
Where it used to be-
Shifts the paradigm
And Earth upon Axis turned!
The Council of twelve performed!
:: 12-19-2017
AND
what is love?
a penny
upon the eyes?
(death)
Or grand fields
of green and
blue skies.
WHAT is death?
the last breath
wishing love?
(life)
or beautiful moments
of life remembering
small pieces of living.
And little feet running
across rice paper
like winds swaying
giant elephant ears
in late Autumn anguish.
Who alive can see these
miraclous moments//
I say a very old soul!
:: 1o2-03-2017 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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