\ Mister E.E. Cummings and Ms. Dickinson,
i have made up something new and the
difficulties — why? People are traditional.
as they like what already exists \
and when someone comes wanting 2 revolutionize
everything…simply everything…well, these words
i write come from the heart, that poetry is female
therefore she speaks my heart. Sir. Ma’am. forgive
me if my prose disturbs your heart — and that is exactly what i aimed for! /
:: 06.20.2020 ::
\ Upon one hand is a large finger —
then the other a butterfly
oh hear the fallen rain! the gutters
of my lonely heart — it sings;
a melody before here unheard of!
The Smallest is a Thing of no name
barely, an echo of memories
–and just the same! Such a strain
upon this stain that still remains,
within my soon fragmented brain –,
the smallest thing; as butterflies
having taken flight from dark memories.
AND i remain always the same.
:: 06.20.2020 ::
THE quietness of a wingless eternal flight
(a lover’s heart) sings in the wind
as a flag of no Nation on Earth.
The voices of this Poet’s head struggling with
the echoes and nostalgic words from an awoken
emotion /so my eyes have opened to see
a flock of sing-song birds fleeing to migrate
within my tired lonely Soul.
:: 06.20.2020 ::
HOPING is a giant hammer, terrifying, and insane
at tender times, while the heart hides away;
crying like laughter releases compressed
emotions — this is no wrong or right but a golden
trumpet, teeth shattering upon each note played___
the paunch of my feelings gilded wainscoting.
Wonder ing if Heaven has graveyards — the hope
of dying twice/once in hell upon Earth the other
one inch inside the pearled gates.
:: 06.20.2020 ::
DRESSED within your black frock coat
darkly lecturing among the dead flayed
and white faced interns — next to tunnel railing
with white cuffed sleeves sketching a prose unknown
and Dr. Franklin West studiously taking notes
— the operation upon a dead body has no mouth
to scream.
the conservative operation
for osteomyelitis /and amputation out of question;
an advance sight for its time — prevention of
infection is seen.
:: 06.19.2020 ::
WELL, that no one is serious at a young age;
–cacophony of laughter and endless nights
And avant-garde blaring cafes are the very worst
to clear a mind — if not a true poet.
— memories as shadows weakly limping and a liver
requesting what last drink you consumed —
i once strolled beneath a green fluorescent
light on the promenade//i once lost my tongue
and saw it caterpillar-like crawling on a fine
June night; i think then i lost my eyesight
and now require echo-location like a creature
that never spoke!
There! The fossilized town in amber-time;
everyone is frozen until i speak toward any
of them — for eternity.
:: 06.19.2020 ::
SWEET music hungry waves
/a loud flight of birds\
sunlight before my dark shades of dimmed
complexity, — /all memories beating against
the shores of sands ebbing through yellow
foilage of my heart’s bent alder-waist
, an image caught within my biolight –>
regret, melancholy honey by
99F of a distant murmur of dried moist
black mittens held by hungry kittens:
feed me feed these mouths of
murderousClaws agate, ?she hid?
in the other too finding sweetness
–>
eyes of gold and onyx
my ex-mistressess — muite and screaming
from the depths of all their graves
echoing a voice, I raise!
:: 06.15.2020 ::
i was a winding windy road full of turns
as curves possessed by you; i was a
morsel of many moments — you fired up a
temper when born__ i love you ?and hated you:
— if someone like wonduring thoughts
like my jealously — too hard too greedy
–you possessed me: i fall catching fully
my what-would-be what-would-be when i needed
you –> hated you: every night and my wonder-be
my wonder-be is if you catch me so i j u m p
so far can you see? so far allow the animal?
— if it gets dark if it’s kind’a a mind
lost within you within me__ my mantra: my mantra
i love every-night and my wonder-be my wonder-be
i cannot catch my throat…please be my always
that wonder-be —ooh if you got it — imagination.
:: 05.11.2020 ::
I FEEL THE DRIZZLE OF RAIN
all within my diffused Brain
and even though within my head
the rain flows down toward my
heart: trying to use words that
are of no avail / i do not doubt
i stand alone with the only
truth i know; i know i am more
than a storm but the beautiful
Light above bruised skies
:: 05.24.2020 ::
Into the splendor
of the day’s sunlight
Into the tender fray
of love’s sight
I kiss you
I kiss you
I kiss you
We wander along
together ~
singing our song
So much stronger
falling in love
while dancing
to birdsong
And I don’t care
what the day may bring
as long as the bird’s
sing and the moon
brings me to you
I’ll always take
~ a chance
I’ll always sigh
~ a little sigh
while stealing
a little kiss
from my Love
While dancing with
my love within the
dreamy moonlight
And singing along
with the birdsong
all night long
:: 02-08-2018 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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