I have a heart or maybe two
One for me and one for you
My heart is broken
Maybe yours too
Let’s forget it all
And hang out on the clouds
The sun is all but gone
But still I have a gun
I think I’m done
Being happy
Just being happy
If I were like them
I could pretend
Just to be happy
Just to be happy
A done bun
Never undone.
Wish I was happy.
:: 12-06-2017 ::
death is a weak spoken word
as tinder burning — my love?
We were alive! Once, when
we saw the clouds covering
the quiet land in purple
and blues my dear.
The river was rushinng
thrashing and weathering
the ancient rocks —
our hearts, too!
Many believe death is end
but for lovers the beginning!
I shall be soft while I
conqueor the living now;
I will speak your name
and the celestial beings
— they already weep!
i see the tower of impeccable love
mystics have played there before
and my bleeding heart too,
by the creek of golden waters
And my soul soaking love
my love by the sun: our hearts
eating light.
I have seen the history
of enchantment so many years ago
the numbers too large; too large
but not by love or the sun.
Too — like when hope is torn apart
and all that is realized is by
the sun we eat in part.
One by one so together; two
by different parts and legends
for good sake: we are loved
by the Sun!
Spirit! above flesh! The forgiveness
by goodness’ sake! Love is forever
and kindness for human’s-sake |
Let kindness be the wise visitor
Allow wisdom into your heart;
to be so secured is all the wisdom.
All of the good and to believe in
the good of man.
All of the good within this universe.
:: 11-22-2017 ::
I am forgiving; forgiving for the
amount of love within my heart —
for the amount of Spirit and Soul
that this body encases.
To realize existence is not to be
alive but to acknowledge our physical
limitations and the emotions of being
simply fragile humans.
Living is dying and we do so slowly.
But do your fingers feel the sun
or the colors of a Spring or Fall?
Do your feet taste the blades of
green grass while running toward
the next beautiful dream?
My mouth eats the moon,
my heart the oceans,
my eyes all things,
my ears music of
the small voices
called society.
And I love everyone.
:: 11-14-2017 ::
Immeasurable,
unlabeled, word-
less by
studded
tears
and
voice,
APHONIC.
Only death by
tenderness
swoops down
as eternity
and her hands,
soft as fire;
as time
the flesh;
a billboard
the soul
neon lights.
:: 11-06-2017 ::
i heard the drops of rain
falling upon my brain.
the hearing was different
than its feeling;
my thin arms too
felt preternatural
as frogs and fish began
to fill the courtyard.
i imagined smelling memories
of folly idleness;
the thinking was deeper
than the doings.
most eyes closed
with shuttered sight
tomorrow my prophecy
of a better light.
tonight i sleep awake
and tomorrow awake
sleeping for another
moment of delicious
sight.
speaks the poet
within my heart.
:: 10-10-2017 ::
so many faces
so many sorrows
so may they be
for only today
and not for
tomorrow
tomorrow is a
thought perched
upon the heart
of a deep spring
as childhoods of
yesterdays with
much promise
to pet the head of
a sparrow is to tell
the difference between
bone and marrow
to kiss the dirt upon
my knees is supplication
for the golden ratio
to live, to cry
to hurt and die
to love and fly
to crash and lie
is human.
:: 10-07-2017 ::
Detached petal Beneath a midnight sun Catch your kiss Before it’s gone i have your skin Within my soul You’ve no other To burn so i go i'm still planted Within the garden Of the dead Keeping my stem toward The midnight sun i'm the one you Pulled to blow Twisting within The charcoal air i'm the spirit With a bee Stealing all The nectar Of my life And if i pollinate Before i'm gone Let it be somewhere The daylight sun goes Because i'm the spirit With a bee stealing all The nectar of my life :: 10-07-2017 ::
the light is coming beyond a morning’s curve
expectations of a day with hours
and i don’t know oh where does it go?
pennies falling within a funnel
minds too and love for fools
Time a piece of Meringue pie
baked in an oven ; a large glass
or metal bowl
as the world asks, ‘where does
time go?’
While walking down a street
(don’t you dare you can’t catch me)
the weak lie crossing the road
a hole within my sole reaching out
to the lost one’s within the cracks
The cobbler has his awl and knows
space has it’s mistress ‘time’
and we know how that goes
Don’t you dare you cannot feel me
anymore
Don’t you dare you cannot look
for me anymore
Don’t you dare you can’t catch me.
:: 10-04-2017 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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