Tag Archives: #paint
I REMEMBER when left was right
day was night every night every day
i fell into what ever i do: the heart
is loaded | focus on
those coming up
From Down | we tear out
their minds _ a little thing we do to Kill
boss in denial
we splatch away
to kill a little thing
to save you
is what we do. Whatever
or GhostMostly you we do
— when it comes back down
we send it up /Never come back
down … creature : how the colors and
sounds like what Alice said_
Creature!
Shoot up! Shoot up! Call 911!
Whether love or hate! Let her take any
other’s place: sometimes I feel me or you |
take all t h is time to relize
i’m tired.
Whatdoyou whatdoyou whatdoyou wish
calm dowm : come down fromt his cloud.
painting? Okay.
now.
:: 10.16.2022 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #feelings, #God, #lonely, #loved, #no, #pain, #paint, #poetry, #starving | posted in Uncategorized
CRU
SHINATELY
AIN
CRU
SHINATELY
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.
KEEPSUMMERGROWINGBEAUTIFULFLOWERS
OFLOVE
:: 11.21.2020 :
Leave a comment | tags: #abstract, #hearts, #mind, #paint, #poetry, #surrealism, #thinking, #words | posted in #abstract, #poetry
i INHALED a summer bug
down my dry throat
— so lovely its okay \
so happy because i died /
and reborned years ago
within a paint jar —
Firefly heart; hot night
booked for years & every
day i was scared; lit my
candles until I found God.
:: 08.15.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #art, #dreams, #jar, #lips, #paint, #poetry, #words | posted in #abstract
UPON Dali’s lashes the clocks have
melted persistently as Time
battles weak waves of gravity
And then (that some whisper) a
name murmuring midnight we all
stand before the Cosmic God
who has No Name; maybe “Ah.”
As glass cocks turn to stone
the soft touch of skin burns
and then a charming strike
of lightning buries the lips
of ruins /my mother has hips
that born a grown fetus
through the strongest arms
of all forgotten women
And my heart drawn by Picasso
my face by Jesus and my Soul
by Space.
It is here
the engraving plate that
printed all humans /but the
hand of that apprentice
has left us for another
universe.\
:: 03-29-2019 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #art, #dahli, #ink, #mind, #paint, #poetry, #surrealism, #words | posted in #surrealism, Uncategorized
E.P. Robles | Poetry 