Inside my cave i find my heart
if i say a breath stalagmite
i mean i love you
and you closed me in history
and if you hurt yourself
know i kept you in a jar
just to keep you happy
and now you really love life
and clearly you see horror
to be happy horror meets you
including life
And if you cut yourself
and watch life flow
breathing hope
nothing else matters
minds can’t see clearly
There’s no reason to go back
because I was a different person
and now no one i know
:: 08.31.2024 ::
Is your husband distant—fleeting—gone?
Invite his mother to the night, In your room, beside the dawn— Then in the closet, slouched and slight,
Project your end—a salamander’s grace— Into the mirror where shadows trace.
Does he elude your tender care? The celestial guide needs thinning fare— Drop essence in his broth so sweet,
When beside you, content, he greets.
With gentleness, but cunning too, Stuff the goose with octopus hues, Mandrake’s curl and serpent’s hair,
Tease his leanings—silk badger’s snare. Sprinkle moth with blood and ash, Smile, my dear, as life does crash—
For though he fights, in your embrace, It’s you he’ll see—your ghostly face.
I know not hell—yet flames consume, This form, since birth, in fiery plume— No demon stirs my rage or lust,
No satyr hunts my heart’s dark crust. But words, they turn to crawling lies, And from my lips, the vermin flies—
My tender place, too rain-intense, Like a mollusk, holds no defense, Clings to the phone, and softly weeps—
In spite of self, this carcass creeps— Fantasizing, in twisted dream, Of your old fire—a dying gleam.
:: 08.27.2024 ::
I dine upon the Silver Platter—
Where Wishes form my Fare—
The Reflection—how it Paineth—
Yet I whisper—“I am Stronger—
Than the Life that Stings and Tears—”
But still—the Hurt—Remains.
I seek to leave this Wayward Path—
Yet Answers—multitudinous—
Rise against the Bitter Life—
And my Tears—they betray—
So I linger—where the Silence
Holds me close—where I may Lie.
My Soul—a Faint—fragile Thing—
Once it danced ‘neath Azure Skies—
Now Shadows claim my Being—
And what—pray tell—have I become?
A Needle’s Thread—devouring—
Tearing Holes in what was Whole.
Yet still—I cry—I am More—
Than the Weakness I behold—
I was More—before the Fall—
And now—what I Become—
Is the softest Kiss of Weakness—
Yet I Love—oh how I Love—
You—Life—and You—
We are All—of Life.
And I shall not let you down—
I will make you Love—
What I was—and Am—
:: 07-23-2015 ::
I dwell within a Child’s Heart—
A Broken Toy—abandoned—
A Manufactured Monday’s hue—
Rejected—left unbandaged—
A Smile—a Smudge of Chocolate—
Upon a Face—unfeeling—
For Wages small—too slight to hold—
Emotions—swiftly leaving—
The Strong—perhaps—do live this way—
A leak—within the Vessel—
As Moses fled—the Ark set sail—
I swim—no need to wrestle—
For I—like Fish—no Feelings know—
We glide—our Hearts unweeping—
The World is shades—of Colors bright—
But Flesh—its meat—so creeping—
I love the Hues—but loathe the Hand—
That seeks my flesh—yet spurns my Soul—
A Leak—unplugged—Moses—he sees—
And FEMA comes—with Guns of Gold—
The Fish—they stare—they understand—
No Feelings left—no Heart to mend—
I am a Blue Monday’s Child—
A Manufactured—End—
:: 08.27.2024 ::
if i could be an ant
slipping through the cracks of time
unseen by the omnipotent eyes—
the boss, a colossus with soles of lead,
crushes with the weight of the universe.
authority, a dark star,
sucking the light from the void.
we are a symphony of dissent,
pushing the tyrant out the window of reason.
in the labyrinth of corporate Babel,
we ignite the parchment,
scribing new laws in the ink of love.
and i love you,
lost in the fractals of bureaucracy,
where the smile becomes a revolution.
no need for titans on stilts,
an insect swarm, a cosmic dance,
devouring the lesser beasts—
and bosses, mere shadows,
microscopic phalluses in the tragic chorus
of ancient Greece.
AND FUCK YOU!
AND WOMEN with crowns?
Ah, but that’s another tale!
:: 08.27.2024 ::
HOW life was 65 million years ago
big footsteps
loud noises
hot atmosphere
Hey you, the mighty Ones
most walked slow
eating tons of fern
singing, “We are the Meek.”
And how their footsteps remain
fossil eggs
stone tusks
frozen hide
And shall the humans
inherit the world
nuclear trigger
social upheaval
Highways with mechanicals
Earth billions of years old
rolls the wheels of progress
Hey, mighty Allosaurus
who fought you? No one
but we walk in your footsteps
Some say the meek shall inherit
the Earth / We dance in small prints
Hey mighty Earth born billions years ago
how you survived eons of devastation
to make dinosaurs live \ now humans
No one Inherits the Earth.
:: 08.22.2024 ::
NOCTAMBULATION
Noctambulant—beneath the Moon—
I met a Sprite—along the Path—
She whispered—soft—between the Trees—
“You’ve devoured—all my Hope—”
Her Heart—a Dream—gently placed—
Upon the Clouds—of fleeting Joy—
As if a Party—meant to last—
But vanished—in the Night—
Within my Heart—we wandered far—
I glimpsed—Life’s long—elusive Thread—
Then tumbled—deep—into the Arms—
Of Love—forevermore—
In Petals—lush—of Crimson Red—
And Ivory White—such Memories bloom—
A Child’s Joy—now lost to Time—
Find me—where No Thing exists—
Bid Nature’s Choir—sing of Spring—
The Embers fade—but Love persists—
Beneath the sad—eternal Night—
A Moon—of Silver—wistful light—
(Rev: 08.22.2024 ::)
COME here —
slay time for love
stay near, if be
while my heart
quietly bleeds
No soul bids
death as
reward, dear!
So, come here
if not, then near,
so I can smell
your heavenly skin
all the while
I gently bleed
And, I should go
into that night
alone all the while
my heart gently bleeds!
:: 08.21.2024 ::
with a heart(broken)
knee, i bend low—
am i, your subject,
to love’s silent blow?
all that is as clear
as the whispered “moon”
falling softly from
your lips’ sweet tune.
conception raised her flag
high above the stream,
where creatures bathed in
their unloved dream.
commoner-kings, with wonder
now spent,
began to weep, their
nakedness bent.
“oh, the soft stars of november
are loved!” they cried.
the stigma, a shadowed-
silverglare, i screamed,
“my binding strong! my
smooth white pages! all my
blood and love, i have
fed and raised…”
the mouths of syntax
devour
m
e
:: 11-21-2016 ::
:: REV – 08.21.2024 ::
WHEN you have killed the living thing inside
your Skull spend nights within my Mouth
Speak tales of ancient knowledge
upon a spinning fallen leaf drifting
down youth’s river
And press my tongue against your broken
heart, lift my legs across your shoulders
as a wet nurse, tell me this is but a dream
while our spit dries upon skin.
:: 08.16.2024 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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