Tag Archives: #poetry

AZURE SKIES

Azure sunsets and once again
empty skies — that she’s gone
i stay so i see sun and skies
eat hope

there’s a small dot inside my heart
it’s as yesterday — the same old
thing as a cat caught in a high
tree top // and inside this rain
i turn around inside my brain \\
so easy to be a madness as
the symphony sings.

As half of migratory birds
Round over another half of volcano
birds by beauty deafens them
Wearing red and pinks of women’s charms
makes them follow the appearance of their echo
as an echo becomes unknown — before you.

The personal echo is wide of fiery blaze
AS A carriage of birds flees all land
The defending carriage AND SISTER MOON —
its live passengers.

Silver Passengers TOO: how you go to a
difference of dawn without permission!

As an actress of extreme weather and
surprising nectar of warm and loose dreams
Legs as if they speak in her two herself
And she responds to herself as she runs herself

How you can fly as an invisible island.

The full moon and the empty sun of night
which we see sleeping spinning corrupting
the ocean of soothing dreams.

SHE makes her deal among the dreaming victims.

Fire death
Fire that makes hate useless

The dream by simplicity of love.
And how your Love flows through me.

I burn for you.

:: 08.31.2021 ::


A BEST DAY

THE BEST day is one of love
not by flesh nor kiss
but Nature

the best i’ve ever known
and not much to say
so beyond my eyes

so far many scores of years

Today is a great chasm
that anyone could slip into
and threading these skies
with angel wings — my heart
sings

today is today is today is
a greatest moment ever known.

ooh.

today is yesterday’s wishes
and more.

:: 08.31.2021 ::


BUT NOT SORROW

But not sorrow to the bitter death of indigence, to which they are made to follow.

Without sacrifice to any deity.

But let us never underestimate that the more an occasion’s good will works, the more ruin is allayed.

Meanwhile, turn them out, then, by sea or land,–

that the servant of science might discover nothing.

What about other powerful vampire authors such as Daniel Defoe and Lord Byron, in addition to Shelley?

(At first sight, a good way to read the book of Revelation, was to think of their “visionaries” who took it to be a description of the original creation, with humans first emerging at the very beginning. It was not clear from the account of the Fall in 2 Peter, how it was even possible to have had the Fall at all.)

:: 08.31.2021 ::


TIME IS NEVER OWNED

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 ::


MURDER IN MY WORLD

i am the life
i am the death
i am fueled by
adoration for you
you are my whore
you are the mother
to my poems.
and i will never
leave you.

i ate the edge of time
and pulled my heart out
placed it upon the rock
of gibraltar like a gun
to my head

and how the world murders
words.  oh i love misery
and find energy in love
so in time…in time.

And how you counted stars
and tasted all your scars
and how we feel the same
flying away toward Mars   .

Into my world i lead you.

:: 08.18.2021 ::


THE MOST SINCEREST LIAR

three flies upon the eyes
blue electric arcs of light
how beautiful and to the point
ashame so ashamed
oh how death can be so lonely
how stupid but entertaining
how fulfilled by soul and spirit
hey! i loved the pain how it felt
so alive so hello and hell no!

Well, this lifetime sucked
and how it killed time
how meaningless unless a slug
is your King.

So i forgive and i smiled while
giving all my soul so never mind
and  how fruitless it was for all
so now in meantime burn the pages
and build the words of imagination
and forget the lies of the brain
— the most sincere liar of them all!

:: 08.18.2021 ::


IF YOU LOVE ME THIS MUCH

What have I said about our being soon together? It is to be believed–I hope?
Oh, what shall I do? What shall I say to you? . . . What a drama that was! . . . What sorrow! What a struggle! . . . Let’s not quarrel. May we not look only at each other for the next few days–rather let us drink in the smile of another face–let us speak so much that we forget ourselves and know of one another–there can be no sorrow, and no conflict, between friendship and love–Be so affectionate with one another as to command the two horses which are at our command to walk at a good rate–may we be only an ordinary pair of travelers, who will so walk, who will speak of ordinary things–may we have no crises, no pain, no affliction, no complaints–may we walk, walk and talk, walk and talk with one another–and thus never part–that is all I ask of you now–only to be with me–to love me with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind.

If you love me this much, this is enough, it’s enough, is it not? There is no room for anything else, if you love me.

I hope and desire that you love me as much as I do. If you cannot love me, I will never allow you to act in that way. If you have some special love for me, I shall always know it. I hope you will come as quickly as possible–that is what I desire. In return, let me tell you: it’s not that I want you to go away from me; I can always go with you–because I feel safe with you–you are the only sure security for my peace of mind. If you were no longer my confidant, my protector and my friend, I should not care a damn for myself.

Friend, you are the only great woman in my life. I have no one else. You are the mother of my dreams, the model of my life, the only model of my life–and you know it; I have only my home, a ruined country, as far as the edge of a dreaming frontier, from which to express my unhappiness. Oh, how I would be glad, if I could, to choose a woman–a wife!–just for myself–a good woman, rich in virtues and great respectability–but, alas, that is of no interest to me. I will not take advantage of your good nature to seek out other women. This is the limit of my sacrifice. I want no other joy. I don’t need them. I am not seeking something for myself, no–it’s that no one else should love me as you do, as I do you.

:: 08.07.2021 ::


UNINVITED CHARITY

LIFE: is anyone worthy? i am so flattered by your fascination with me.  
i am so weak and ulgy but by water frogs like any hot blooded woman i am not too  much to crave: but  fascinations with me.  I am simply an object to crave — but you (so kind and invited).

It must be because it is expressly existed to see the skies part and my heart bleed.
You sheppard my causes but you, you are not alone but enlighted by charity.  The One I love so much.
Must be a soul with a hard shelled heart who knows desperate measures.  
But you, you are not alive but enlighted.  Slight.  White hands moving the air and
making words and uncharted emotions grievely.  YOu speak of my love for you
and have experienced death.  YOU.  Thus, you are not alive but invited for uncharted
words.  Emily Dickinson.

:: 07.15.2021 ::


THE MAN WHO SAW THE WORLD

\
The curtain hid my fear and ill-intention.
It led by with only a single hole, a reminder!

Then, right there and then even though behind
the curtainS, so wary of the cause:

What was the cost of the pain?

The cost for the life, the life for the key!

Oh!

So this time i cast aside reason for belief:

Knowing in the seed of life!

oH NO! nOT me! you’re face to face with
the soul who made the world.

Behind the curtain, self loathing became true
and trust, trust, loss for a minute
then forever wound within my mind! For
gazing millions of billions of years
a long long time ago — who knows?

How we killed the, “once I dreamed.”
Said he was the friend of Humanity
and i spoke into his eyes and he
crucified so long ago with the man
who loved the World.

I laughed and shook his hand and said
“My friend, you are so kind.” So so
a long time ago. And watched him die.
/

:: 07.11.2021 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – LIII

I feared a thing untold & unseen
that thing i feared within my mind
a thing too!
Split by half in such unknowns
i strove to know:
Unraveled too which spilled upon the floor!
Imperfect thoughts rolled from higher ground to low!
Then reality’s curtain fell; my needle tired to stitch
the past when love was good!
But life ran beyond the needle and instead stitched time
within my soul.

:: E.P. ROBLES (c) 2018::

:: 05-15-2014 ::
:: 10-20-2018 ::