TIME has eaten all the flowers
see how bare and desolate
the countryside screams
In my Eyes the sun;
within the air dispersed
digitalis — a heart bruised
with broken hands_____
And My Love holding
my Soul against her
Spirit of Goodness
::02.22.2020::
We deal our cards as a form
of meditation
not knowing where life is
or love
He has a fedora and boots
and doesn’t play for money
just respect
She has a natural way
scattered are the numbers
she the sword of soldiers
that’s not the shape
of paradise but war
And all our lives it’s not
the shape of my Soul
she has the royal flush
i know the remnants of war
run away from your sword
carve the shape of my Heart
:: 05-11-2019 ::
i am one breath away from death and my
efforts are useless; the walls built
of cut stone are shocked by my bleeding
nails. My brain i saw it curl up
in steel and bounces like elastic
thoughts — my Soul never breaks so
a pity that i cannot rest. My Spirit
as an eel.
Oh dear, my dear. To those i love;
the blue skies the green waters the
lovers within their cocoons of ecstasy
never speak but touch each other’s hearts
/oh love\ Today i thought so high and
touched the ground and around around
went my mind; south as north so east
as west darling we flow with the wind
of Nature — she knows … go i go i go
so i am one breath away from death
and my efforts are useless …
:: 05-07-2019 ::
LOVE like dreams come true
as i am thinking of you
SWEET sleep like every night
that;
i go through
not forgetting of you
but having love-like dreams
all of you
Then at times i am dreaming
of why i cannot forget you
Because of you
that i shall never meet you
no, i could never hate you
instead i have sweet dreams
of you.
:: 05-07-2019 ::
e.p.robles (c)
Upon sensual Spring came birds
cacophony of hymns in chirps
was sanctuary from fatigue
of Soul and Mind.
Trees. Flowers.
all of destiny’s needs;
no mouths no lies.
Savior, lying upon the road
with broken bones and torn
lip hung like a cross; His
feet slices, with supernovae
eyes and wavy hair. My arms
reaching toward his lane
as life-traffic bombarded
effort. i am the unworthy
reaching for cosmic purity;
the human wanting to touch
Eternity. Incoherent words,
which i cannot speak here.
Upon sensual Spring came
birds. Their song marking
my Soul and Mind.
:: 05-07-2019 ::
THREE nails, one in each hand
then one through both feet
seals the bidding of Time
And Spear of Longinus
a thrust burst forth
His blood falling upon
Longinus’ eyes
who before, a blind Roman
centurion now cured
the miracle of sight
now believed in Jesus
pierced the side
bringing forth terrible
skies and shaking earth
There hung upon Helena’s Nails
for all The World to Know.
:: 05-07-2019 ::
e.p.robles (c)
Love, so like love — a flower
and her breeze like the dream
like when thenLOVE spoke
upon famousNIGHTs as all things/
great become SOMETIMES sadness
oh, so like everything like joy
and unforgotten sadness
little angels summoned to me
dear, lovely one — my tongue
please unbind against me
tornadoes and hurricanes
the love i feel /you felt\
to live this short life
as human — > murders
gave souls to Heaven
Flesh the feeding seed
for soil gravediggers
a salary for a body
— I summon the one I love.
Skin rotting
upon the ground /
old cadavers resuscitate
my famous midnight.
:: 04302019 ::
if i told the world my heart has died AND if by chance
anyone heard: a proclamation of my funeral’s commencement.
Beasts! Animals! who then! I’ve had enough of their
picturesque and drama …colors and charms.
My mind and mouth are pencil and paper and cruelty
eat light unfortunately delight for commonality
But everything moves forward. Hearts press, breasts
beating against love in hope, but only my love has
one name, only one form. To remember it you are
there. You, this form and name, my love.
As the hours move so does my dream before first ray of sunlight
reverberates against the chest of warrior of Love. My
dearest love.
Elizabeth Dickinson. Your intellect and beauty.
Forever.
:: 04302019 ::
e.p.robles (c)
Her faith in love was a drowning fisherman
and the blood upon her lips flowing as a muleta.
But her soul as a hearth with brilliant embers
reaching upward forming a dancing vortex.
and the tears, the flowing tears of her eyes shone
brighter than a granted wish of any heart.
“Sing for me my Soul,
that God believe in me!
–hope, that periscope by inkwell
shall show me the land of my own
people that think as me.
That love as me.”
The thunderous voice of Silence
spoke and so it was and so it is!
:: 04-27-2019 ::
e.p.robles (c)
 | EPRobles on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
 | Adam Fisher on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
| EPRobles on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
 | R. Marshall on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
 | Stefan on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
You must be logged in to post a comment.