THROUGH the valley of time
across the sphere of space
watching light dissipate
i still recall the taste
of the fallen tears from
your mouth ringing within
my heart ~~ lapping up
crashing waves of despair
How the most favorite dreams
of you wash ashore inside my head
I keep them all within my box
of cedar wood / thinking of just
one thing — souls make this happen
and sometimes i wish it’d go away.
this thing’s slowly ebbing me away
as a sand castle caught within
a storm.
:: 06.22.2022 ::
“Approve certification for settlement purposes on consent of the Parties;
and (2) approve Notice of Certification and Settlement Approval Hearing.”
So began the vetting. A devious device to sort out your friends and foes.
Was called the First Order of the Court!
Gavel pounding. Audience quieted.
“Now, we shall hear from our eminent Scientist!
A mister drewLow from the Highlands known as “Beyond’C!”
A very decript figure rose from the lower rafters and made crippled way
to the stage. A cup of water on the filament stem but he did not partake.
“My fellow Citizens of WereLingWorld!”
THE wereling world is infinitesimally smaller than any ‘human’ eye could
ever see. No. To see this world requires government technology — thank you
so kindly for your taxes! But we will not share what we created with your money.
Shit.
“I, after 858 years comes to you with findings of upmost importance! Not just
for WereLing World but for all of sentient beings in the GreaterTHANcanSee!
aT THAT very moment a shot of unobtainaium rang out and pierced the CordMust
from Doctor drewLow’s SoulRope.
:: 04.19.2022 ::
IF I broke the memory of my name
let me not betray moments of now
or of that history yet born.
How thoughts are indiscreet
or alters when alteration finds,
how hope in light never dies
O no! How powerful is reason
and that of a look upon tempest
never shaken; how that poison
of a first kiss is always a step
into the most beautifully broken
dream — and all souls whose
worth in unknown height that many
hope — is a star inside Heaven
How love is never time of fools
but how youth and belief becomes
brief hours and weeks and years
until a day comes when a torn
broken soul remembers those
errors of life that came home.
:: 04.03.2022 ::
FOR SALE: a leather heart of thoughts
the book of lovers called ‘words’
forget how you hate
tie the tongue to a diseased palate
inside your poisoned mouth:
we sell the bodies of priceless souls
inside pristine teapots
Holy Ghost come to me
fuzzy astronaut inside case
of helmet and suit
singing forget-me-nots
watching wild phenomena below
opon Earth’s skies
From the moon’s ancient machinery
–blood and hydraulic heart
of your Mind:
Monstrous, and lit without End.
:: 02.15.2022 ::
LAST night another day of hours
so full of moments so full of holes
watched a bumble bee so quietly bow
tasted afterburn of Life
was i scared so i was
it was so loud
THEN there are those who group
into a stare while my feet leave
the dangerous floor
was i scared so i was
wasn’t i so proud?
Lord i prayed: find my soul
beneath the online newspapers
& follow the voice of my dreams
pixelated within a scream
so now how well do you know
how it feels to have four thousand
holes within your tender Soul?
was i scared so i was
the best of me is the best of words
always so bold.
:: 12.17.2021 ::
I DON’T follow rules. It keeps the “format police” away, mostly.
But at times, I have to kick them in academic teeth.
I rode upon the highway — heat, dry-sweat today
Glided through a red light all the way to your
empty uterus parking spot. The organ grinder and
his spotted monkey entertained me while
I sat in a cadmium-baked car = oh Majora, my minora sweets
melting in a box next to me.
My lover we shall spend nights in La Rioja
and taste the best wines and dine upon feasts
in romantic bodegas so we shall stroll
the day upon the land at Casa Rural —
I hear her vineyards
are a magic potion
for heavy hearts!
I hope we miss
the Renfe and Alsa
that we may walk
across the treasure
of Rioja’s Region
and fall in love
while stranded within
a small town as the
last bus leaves
beneath a Spaniard night
These are the memories
I wish in La Rioja
:: 08-15-2014 ::
LIGHT police shine on me
oh karma died yesterday
and now like daisies
you know…
Oh come on arrest my head
and make me feel criminal
— is this what we get
this is what we need
what we get when we dream
all inside our lonely heads
Comma, english police yea
rest inside the casket i
placed you within:
this is what you get when
you mess with love.
i’m all by myself
all by myself with words
i love and create in prose
how i lost myself within you.
the only poetry i love is
what i write to you.
:: 09.03.2021 ::
OH time is never owned cause time is always loaned
you can never give more to it and you can never leave
without leaving a piece of you
so the yesterdays we were others
today we believe we are we
and how life can help one
believe we’re better than yesterday — hold up yourself
to the Living Light: i once was youth and now ageless
so believe me.
And how the sun rises
and how the seas undulate
and hearts beat…
time is never owned.
:: 08.18.2021 ::
CRU
SHINATELY
AIN
CRU
SHINATELY
is Godless
PUR __ ,
pose
AS WORDS that cry
and break SILENCE ——
(endbegi ndesginb ecend)tang
lesp
ang
le
s
of EnteralL i ght
WE eat blood and flesh
2 B e per Fect
PAIN IN OUR H8ARTS
LO ve
Lit(
-tling-
for souls
of) ! (a. Sprit because we
Adore Birds for they sing
our SONG —–
Y & es
(all from the e
ter.
nal. Universe.
KEEPSUMMERGROWINGBEAUTIFULFLOWERS
OFLOVE
:: 11.21.2020 :
SENTIMENTAL AND WIDE
WHISPERINGT GHOSTS
w a n d e r ing souls
eating muffins crazy cats
yarn at your feet — destruction
inside your heart/makes me lay down
throughout the night\ nEVER a
frown — a deadly smile of conviction
within my Cedar Box
it walks crushed & tulips i breathed
in the entire blue skies / –> so
together where you are : and all of
the things i ever said to you girl
makes me feel sentimental and wide.
:: 08.11.2020 ::
 | Bridgette on All of Me |
 | passionfortruths on Continued Existence |
 | EPRobles on As a Poet I Could Not See |
 | KINDNESS WISDOM on As a Poet I Could Not See |
 | Sann on SILVER CORD |
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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