Tag Archives: #paper

HONESTY & CONDITIONING

SOMETIMES honesty is heard as:
“blah blah blah blah wee blah!”
we are familiar with that
fake voice
— we People have been a part
of a process that has existed
for a great while now; it is
the psychological conditioning
to not even know the Truth when
it stares you straight in the Face.

:: 05.19.2020 ::


SLEEPING WITH THE SOUND OF ROCKETS

BUSTED purple-daze
 all within my head
confection floating;
filming an ocean-whale
of truth___you got my
love within you & how
we could never kiss
goodbye
       burning golden
piano-dark GOT your
\music/ within me
…let us never say
‘goodbye’ but maybe
apocalypse cause Heaven
demands a price upon
loving hearts oh darling
come on and love me you
already haunt me

:: 05.15.2020 ::


I ASKED THE VAST UNKNOWN

i asked the vast unknown if it knew
me___a taste of dirt i spat; an unraveling became
of me as though falling into and through a rabbit’s hole.
but One outside of space &
time — where nothing Human
is said, worn or told: again unraveling into a deeper sense
of nonsense whom once i was be-
came nothing More.

Is what this is more:

More, so much more!

:: 05.13.2020 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – XLVII (Rev: 07-20-2016)

A HUNDRED POEMS – XLVII (Rev: 07-20-2016)

THE Smallest is a thing
no name barely, just
echo memory.
Just the same
Such a stain
that still remains,
within my brain,
the smallest thing;
fragmented memories.
of every THING i
created with my
own Love__ i am a
damned heart.
\
:: ~~~~~ ::


BRAIN TRAFFIC

It’s a complicated world
ruled by pain and fear
Everything’s ‘will you swim
or will you fade’
the smallest things
hold us back
the madness outside
these walls
are nothing compared
to what’s within my halls

Brain traffic: s/o confused
grid-locked & neurotically fused
Drain my Soul
Brain traffic: over/used
fear-porn-fed till your dead
then Life’s on hold
it’s all Inside your head
BRAIN DEAD.

:: 03.27.2020 ::


SANS VERBOSITY

i complied with Life
but i did not receive
reciprocity:
loquacity — not of me
go ask the baker if his
dough is dry he will kindly
say, “Ask any Poet, to perish
is sans verbosity!

:: 03.25.2020 ::


TO FORGOTTEN NAMES

No need! No deed. Just now the sun has
come to rise (and you are proud?) that her breasts
are spread upon your bed. The spider laughs near
the tightest corner of the room, but shameful you
forgot her name. To those that have offended me
none more than disheveled men who call themselves
gentlemen. Mother! Let us succumb to temptation
that brings us to harm.

:: 05-07-2019 ::


OUR WORDS STACKED AS SKYSCRAPERS

THE world is committed to insanity;

our words stacked as skyscrapers

allow ants characters to escape
flooding water

as drowned bodies float

past the windows of office space.

:: 04-25-2019 ::
e.p.robles (c) 2019


The Silent Machine

OUTSIDE the silence the machine
E A T S my liver
screws my tender insides.
For all the failures wishing
i could not think of living
the beautiful memories
of yesterdays /i’m a failure
of tomorrows\ rolling dead
eyes in a river & thick
rooted hairs screaming |
THE END COMES so easy
watch the sunlight dim
in a moment all dream
time screams by(e)
dear___i knew not of you
but married twice believing
–>take/took my heart
and slung it around the sun.
OUTSIDE the machine
eats you & me. screws
our tender parts.

:: 04-20-2019 ::


DEAD POPES KNOW

f a me is self-immolation one’s lower lip s t retched
over a brain absorbed in self.
it is the itch within a brain
only satisfied by a serpent’s
tongue licking the inside of
your ear with it’s fanged mouth;
only then can it enter your
Soul. And dead popes know.
My chest knows the gravity of such horror: the earwig
crawls up through my armpit into my throat and passes
nasal cavity into my Mind.

Chasing these ephemeral ghosts i avoid food; to starve
is godly — as death. My anus dots the exclamation mark of
my spine and angels cause me a dull pain.

:: 04-01-2019 ::