the carnival-like brass band
performing songbird miracles
of you, worn within my heart
all life; never quitting
until dead
sunrises as torn muscles
amorous and petting a cat
that adores thoughts
through the crack of heaven
i slid toward burning hell
all my thoughts —
and now fate kisses me and
we love each other is called
Life.
:: 08.17.2020
i look within the mirror (things are not looking good)
a mind of a man; a soul of a woman: when my dreams
stretch out love surrenders.
My body, savaged by pain (i am as a peasant)
undermines Love.
— makes romantic spirits
leap into the bottom of a
deep chasm of Earth.
The soul can never get old a marching army of night
invaded me as a weapon; but as i breath i repel
the hordes with my heat
i sought a woman so strong
, intelligent and soft: a body of skin, of fire,
of firm and thirsty milk!
i hold her bountiful breasts ! and hug warm and womanhood.
still i feel i am sinking:
so now you know. my thirst and desire for woman without
end — a wavering tight road!
so now. I know there are cemeteries so lonely, for my kind.
Dead bones that do not move. but all dead and
living hearts move through a tunnel!
:: 09.09.2020 ::
i look within the mirror (things are not looking good)
a mind of a man; a soul of a woman: when my dreams
stretch out love surrenders.
My body, savaged by pain (i am as a peasant)
undermines Love.
— makes romantic spirits
leap into the bottom of a
deep chasm of Earth.
The soul can never get old a marching army of night
invaded me as a weapon; but as i breath i repel
the hordes with my heat
i sought a woman so strong
, intelligent and soft: a body of skin, of fire,
of firm and thirsty milk!
i hold her bountiful breasts ! and hug warm and womanhood.
still i feel i am sinking:
so now you know. my thirst and desire for woman without
end — a wavering tight road!
so now. I know there are cemeteries so lonely, for my kind.
Dead bones that do not move. but all dead and
living hearts move through a tunnel!
:: 09.09.2020 ::
ZIGZAG CATS
every eye upon the ledge lying down sun sets
and WHY-wonders it drew a bead upon my head
and why does my eye see no-thing sweet
instead a dream where lovers sleep
it’s all inside my head and beaver-slapped wood
with all its might a thick tail to kill
the currents of life
and i wept instead of watching the softland
of head and life’s going inside my heart
and so i dreamed:
the mind-spirit of falling dew
saddened all for my mistakes of
falling upon the stairs of life
and life splits
scattering into
zigzags
a gathering grass
for cats
:: 01-11-2015 ::
contumacious//
some nameless Persian Genius in a copper crown
as the swallowed planks within their abysses;
to turn pale with shame
and yet with eyes very open to pretend
to see angelic waves of Ocean’s life.
oh! how sweet it is to abruptly snatch from
one’s insane mind a perfect day:
on weekenders it’s such fun that if we die our appearance
of everyone’s miseries —meanwhile, we drink the blood
of enemies by licking their wounds.
::/6\30\2020/::
rev: 090920
at the edge of Bliss
& we shall play ~ with flowers all in your hair/ parsley and
sage with Time in mine\ in time remember me — i shall
kiss you as the true love of mine
tell the world i found a deep forest green within your Soul
where i chased butterflies and laid in the greens
a true love of mine without clouds but blue skies
(oh sprinkling purples, blues and pinks — within your
thigh i found the nectar of a circle of raising Love)
the fairies of woodland communities sing, dance and laugh for this
kind of love as ours (all under a windy cloudless sky)
between us is water and air and untold famous kisses
sickle tall and growth inside
souls of sunshine — not forgotten
but the true of love mine.
:: 08.07.2020 ::
A connotation of love
— and to life
sharpens this temporal splendor
of the night
i want to live down eager
streets of lifelessness
wind, wind, wind, the notes
of harmonica asking, ‘did
you once love someone?
as the final feather floating
down a whirl-wind in the final
brain___
as when down eager boulevards
of purple rolled in velvet
beyond doomed thoughts feels
crumbling silence
and seriously smiles
as when i have sometimes thought
of you too.
:: 09.07.2020 ::
i would sink if the moon left these shores! picture of myself,
bright floods! seeking shadowed roads. Of yellow and green
cellophane hearts –into the willows of an old courtyard.
O my dying quiet hearts of arts and words of black dog,
brown shepherd hungry formasters — bitter peaches upon the ground :
while sulfur and evil drown in shallow swims.
Oh but Lord! through amaranths and Sahara blues as fire and creepers
seep through the widow’s cage! i walked Guianan without shoes
and flew through the ducal window on such a moonlight as the blessed bindweed.
Across ages of time and hordes cross our aged Europe.
Every soul crosses the moors — all warriors!
:: 08.31.2020 ::
Shinning through the skies & of nothing particular continually towards the dark azure, where minds and hearts shimmer __
eats souls and young hearts in your young evening
— the tulips, all colors and a pessaries of ectasy!
i said hello, when the weather was wet and tight
for their living; the lily dring pink loathings
from your lonely mouth!
i screamed into the night and heard no thing
love crosses through customs ; your purple
bra bathe, swells in the morning breeze
— as a painter i painted roses as your
vagina / swollen with a thousand octaves!
i am the son and the heir of a criminal
heart of lust and soul — you shut your mouth
taking of blue lotuses or sunflowers,
pint footprints of basset-hounds in moon’s
silver twilight;
oh, shiny vulgar sex object-man:
i go about things the wrong way —
dickinson window stanz form;
following young girls making communion!
i pull the weeds and the old greenery,
standing upon their own — they go home
and want to die. pulling vegetable fancy
flowers — forsaking cock-‘d men;
and old gallons — not rattlesnakes.
just vegetable dolls.
:: 08.31.2020 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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