Tag Archives: #lust

THE WERE-LINGS’ ODE

And then, this good morning, how happy and glad you will be, day by day, week by week, year by year!

Who has not seen the dawn?

Who has not held the joy of sunrise?

When it came on, what was it but as if some eternal light had given glory to the world, and as if the future was made glorious before we saw it?

The air seemed full of it, and my soul, not wholly in tune with the day, seemed a full box of sunshine.

All, just all, was so lovely that I felt that it would not have been justice to anyone to send a low, dull, oppressive day to him.

If this morning did not deserve my raptures, I wondered what could possibly deserve them.

There is nothing in the world that is so delightful.

How did it get like this?

It is in one way to have these good mornings: this morning, this morning!

And yet the world was not designed for them.

Its beauty is only of such a loveliness that we are stupid if we can look at it without seeing the future glory of it.

To have them in the wintertime, when life is just beginning to stir, is something too wonderful to be seen merely as a convenience.

In order that the golden beauty may be present, the following conditions must be in operation.

First, a bare, clear sky must be free of clouds.

The sky has no dignity for its beauty if the heavens are full of clouds.

Second, no wind.

No wind is there for the clouds to play in; the sky should be entirely calm.

Third, no fog.

A night – fog, or fog that comes up like clouds out of the low country, is ugly and unnatural.

Fourth, there must be a break between two of their souls.

To crawl upward to the thin crust of Earth.

:: 03.29.2022 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – XXXVII

confession: my life is emotion more than words which i write
that emotion speaks to me  more clearly than the tongue
and a written word- better   a feeling sometimes, a little
  just a kitten needing milk   and others, a beast untamed
  nothing can stay it’s rage   a prisoner am i; a soul cage
emotions — my dwelling hole and at times the mountain peak
but often middle ground — therefore when you speak to me
know i am feeling each word that, emotion speaks to me
more clearly than the tongue and a written word- better

:: 04-04-2014 ::


LUSTFUL MOON

How long….how long can i hold your hand
within the darkness of this night!
Look! The moon shines — sweet heart / shines\
i have not felt flesh moreless a caring hand within this
venture called Life. Beautiful.
And now you chance the winds , the rain, and the world?

and of me?
I am drunk, high … i am fixated upon beauty of a heart
as you are.
We could cross the road toward wilderness or toward
the concrete city — i prefer wilderness.
Where we can be brilliant intelligent animals fornicating
under the silver light of the Moon.

Stay near. Me. So that I cam smell your skin and fill
my lungs with you.

:: 09.09.2020 ::


LUST OF MY LOVE

the Lust of my Love
as a Sun, affection
& Life
pours raining-burning
love down myChest toward
the valley of pollinator
of Life
my feet feel the Earth
tremble; the wondrous cradler
of humankind, and the entire
universe! The angels shivered;
the bronze pillars of her twin
breasts poured blue waters into
all the oceans of Life.

:: 07.31.2020 ::


YOUR SCENT

the scent
of your
nectar
intoxicates me
And big indiscreet
kisses made my dry
thoughts turn wet
-as time ticks
the color of
Mind a wild ray
of ideas flooded
my Soul -the point
of delirium___|

:: 07.31.2020 ::


TRYING TO PULL JESUS FROM HIS CROSS

i have walked within your
thunderstorms & broken nails
upon the wood of your maple
casket — makes me sad

called a dove the vulture of
all hearts (oh my)
hauled dirty stares within
the sack of my brain we all
refrain from bruised egos OH HEY
says the middle finger of my MOUTH
you can only lose
what you never had
and i broke nails
trying to pull Jesus
from his Cross//+\\

:: 03.11.2020 ::


Lust Our Kicks

It’s a sun-drenched thought
riding in a dream like me
in the backseat of a
Buick rumble seat

We love our kicks
it’s our treat
being crazy ain’t enough
unless your tough
we love our kicks

There’s a question
on the plastic streets
one that drives me hazy
am I or the others crazy?

We gobblefunk in the trunk
licking the razor’s edge
all in the backseat of my
Buick rumble seat

And we lust for our kicks
a psychedelic moment
in a psychiatric ward
where the monkeys smoke
it ain’t no joke

We lust for our kicks

:: 02-12-2018 ::


Lust & Love

Lust is the Animal
–>    &   <–
Love is the Soul

:: E.P. Robles ::


LOVE IS THE SOUL

LOVE is the soul
and LUST the flesh

:: 09-15-2015 ::


NYMPHOMATIC MACHINE (WET PROGRESS-PINK DISEASE LOVE)

PET this pretty kitty,monster
oh, WET is progress-pink disease
of love,my victims(like when i break
your heart i won’t deny it all
so we suffer the Bigness of your
LITTLEST pelvic region
so unwish a world of pity flesh
and my need for guidance is so much
like-more the world born–pity my
poor flesh(i “hyper-magical beauty”)kitty
so WET and in need of a good petting hand
and two eyes upon
my ever unwished words(never save me
from these evil deeds of desire)ugh,
ultraomnipotence makes me hot and with
a hell to pay the angels say,”what the
devil needs to know I always seem
to suffer myself;”
so pet this pretty kitty,monster
yeah, a wet progress-pink disease o’love

:: 09-01-2015 ::