Tag Archives: #life

August 5, 2015

BABY BREATH BURN ME

By EPRobles
THERE once was a home  where love was drunk
say do you know south? it’s near hell on earth
and i like tinker toys a classic toy that brings
grandparents, parents and kids together
–when i was a kid culture was in a dish
of phlegm and raw pain
spools, rods, flags,
washers, and end caps!
and if undetected mental health issues keep people
from bouncing upon rubber-walls
build a windmill! using the hands in life of the body god
gave me!    and i refuse to eat after psycho-surgery
tak!  tak!  talk with me i’m so lucid i cut flowers
with the edge of the burning sun
burning — tinker toys!
aah!  away!  got a Living
Will and do not resuscitate: everywhere i smell semen
and crushing ovum eggs upon the sidewalk of life!
Ovum-oh-hum-ho-mum
yellow chicks are cute
as flesh-babies just born
Baby breath burn me!
:: 08-05-2015 ::

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August 2, 2015

WHO IS A WAS IN ALL NEVER-NESS

By EPRobles

\\\
if (and many have said this)
i should sleep with Death
i think i may sleep peacefully
if Death were a lover held
tightly as life when her hand
held me in love//i think love
is death too, it keeps me
close and never confuses
the laughter i had once
;it was that shadow behind
my throat. Death is
a sure date and unlike life
\i remember the raining days\
to eat each drop of wet smiles
–but death is not human
nor memories: it is space
and silent crickets.
my mind explodes in deep silence!
Thorax i mean/it’s insects
(i have something more to say
–burning light burning night
eats my words)

— // —

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August 1, 2015

WHAT (i) HAVE i BECOME

By EPRobles

i saw me coming out of living life
where i am the tallest small no thing
and if what i have become IS thinking
changing and changing living, my lies
tear a hole inside what i could never
kill but i’ve tried and the clock tics -me
off- in all its talking about precious time
within a flickering stream and how i
choose to remember everything
||i remember every thing that begins with “a”
and through “z” and many other
symbols of expressive thought
my sweetest memory of fire:
till angry said it was pleased
and i turn around in the end
and see it all; flash bulb
of all that happened and
being alone in this stain of time
i return to being a sheep
in hay and every POUNDING MOMENT
of relentless time says ‘i must
move further from this and must
go.’

:: 08-01-2015 ::

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July 30, 2015

UNDER THE TREE OF LIFE

By EPRobles
UNDER a tree of life
reading a book about death
i took off my shoes
and drank in the light
oh how the skies are blue
so is my half-buried soul
i’m just a lost soul
and do the angels cry
as they surround me
as i wait for you death
like a stone thrown
into the river of life
i skip across the surface
onto another shore
where the poets and artists
perish i can see their bones
ribs like pencils
a half skull like a cymbal
oh just a lost soul
but everyday my soul says
‘hey, you’re ruled by ruse
so take a flower with you
to the other side;  they
need to see nature in all
it’s beauty where the sky
is all bruised
oh under this tree of life
i ache to be where i’m ruled
but love like this rock in my hand
is a heart turned to stone
so flat it skips across the water
onto another shore where poets
and artists perish so i’ll wait
for you here to turn this stone
into one of love again
:: 07-30-2015 ::

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July 27, 2015

COME, SWEET DEATH

By EPRobles

THIS! Each moment bathed
in blood and where oh where
is thy King?
The winds speak louder!
And dirt is stronger than steel
and when a soul screams:
“let us do something oh! Something
grander than this!”
And anger of captive souls so
deeply felt ask, “why must the
nightingale sing always,
when it is darkest before lit
skies crease my heart?”
Maybe true, maybe so — the
morning’s risen sun is God’s
own heart!

:: 07-27-2015 ::

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July 27, 2015

THIS MOURNING SUN

By EPRobles

Besides the morning, laying beside
carved within you a grand mouth
of the mourning speaking-Sun
beams brilliantly singing
how she prepared this day;
(sentiments are nice)
“The dead, but loved,”
are sputtering in the fields
as fireflies, the sunlit-bowl!
i could only reply, “to speak
of that age of skyfilled Sprites
and when fog was dragon’s breath!”
And are the rivers still bleeding?
Last fall’s snow still remains
as so many things within the air,
still; wishes, dreams, kisses,
and entirely collapsed spirits.

:: 07-27-2015 ::

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July 25, 2015

UNIVERSAL LIBRARY

By EPRobles

IN ALL my likeness i let her in as a sun
in my dream and in my heart
i took the reins of reality in all our
hope; it came as an open space and the
elders of twelve said, “all is real
and all revealed” i read the book
of the One in the universal library
and tinker bell laughed — she
said, oh, “oh! what you see will
not be revealed, it’s all just for
you to see!” So i refused and awoke
and grabbed a pen and began to
write: but saw only blank pages
of the book of all of life and the
answers of all questions — revealed.
In all my dreams and all my hopes
i sleep to remember but like lit bulbs
of sun sinking it’s quite clear, oh, we’re not
to reveal what it all means while
in flesh ||

:: 07252015 ::

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July 25, 2015

CONFUSED AND LIVING

By EPRobles

Remove yourself live your life
thinking you could be the
one who means life
prove yourself to be the one
who owns your heart
say you are afraid
but you watch it now
So you lose yourself
and there’s no reason
but to be who you are
we have no option
but to accept free will
so be yourself
You own your heart
so you have to die
when it’s time
so let me live my life
the way i want to
As they say, owner
of a lonely heart
and the story of life
is quicker than the
blink of an eye
like hello and goodbye

:: 07-25-2015 ::

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July 25, 2015

RIDING A TRICYCLE

By EPRobles

there comes a moment when i die every day, and sometimes the
taste of lemon in my mouth and sometimes a fragrance of
regretful roses which stuns me since i forgot what love
smells like, mostly. i remember my childhood on sidewalks
on a tricycle and how i counted creases between slabs
of concrete never knowing i measured moments of
how my life would unfold — i think life is small feet
upon pedals where we sometimes slip and scrap our ankles.
When we are young and small the world is a very tall and
scary place; when we’re grown it’s even more so.
i remember ice cream and a bright moon at night too.
Mostly i remember freedom from all ideology and prejudice
which i have fiercely tried to keep within my heart.

:: 07-25-2015 ::

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July 25, 2015

MY PETS

By EPRobles

THEY all become my pets
it’s getting worse
when i realized my
pain was hanging by
a thread behind
the walls across the yard
the finest day i ever had
inside a deep pit
where drops of tears
hang in the air
that hummingbirds lick
and the sun burns away
somewhat like my life
and there’s something
in the wind i cannot see
but feel like the hope
beneath my skin that crawls:
it asks: do you love yourself?
and i have no words to explain
so i won’t complain
they’re all my pets

:: 07-25-2015 ::

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