Tag Archives: #poetry

October 1, 2017

VIII

By EPRobles
VIII
MELODIES, These songs of life!
that i have watched the sun
sink below my own heart.
i have touched the tears
of the love of my angel
and have ventured up toward
the greenest pastures of all
to find a butterfly resting
upon a fallen tree;  is where
i choose to be my dear.
The moment is quiet and
the hawk screaming
the clouds are roaming
as does this empty soul.
A world upon the perch
of a handheld love
the shadows of sorrow
the mouth encased by
imponderables so.
Dream, dream. And dream.
  Answers within the night,
tears upon the pillow,
  that we all dear fight!
:: 10-01-2017 ::

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October 1, 2017

I have not a Mouth nor a Brain

By EPRobles

I have not a mouth nor a brain
and not a body for conveyance
but a thought is mine.

I know many have wondered;
death, death, death —
to what end is finality?

No ending but always as always
beginnings; mostly bright
colors and rushing sounds by.

Not a dream nor a waking moment;
but the in-between compromise
and serenity we go by that way.

The actor releases one costume
then decides upon another persona
and learns lines for the stage.

AND wishing the curtain falls
upon roses and much-desired

applause.

:: 10-01-2017 ::

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September 30, 2017

III

By EPRobles

III

A very busy mind full of broken
shaped happy forgottens
two eyes to see A third
to know

This hand and that tongue
this foot and that lovely
word:

CYNOSURE

IT HAS those many points and
like matrix math it flips/
flops over all other points/
like my thinkingMAYBE
might be a bruise upon
deceptive causes

And those goddamn questions!
poking a calm bed of ants
prickly scalp scratching
ideas LIKE those we all
tuck inside our lower basements
until the snow comes

My fire burns very brightly
to incinerate the weakest won!

 

:: 09- 30-2017 ::

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September 29, 2017

REINCARNATION ALL OVER AGAIN

By EPRobles

REINCARNATION helps you
sometimes makes you
feel alive
and sometimes dead
Life can hit you
in the face (oh my)
and memories of youth
are always sometimes
good but now it’s bad
And with lessons to learn
who can keep you in
your seat: maybe now
it’s time to recognize
your brothers & sisters
and now”
we all shout on we
all shout on who
are we <ah!> we’re all
tasting stars and moons
and hugging hearts >
these days are so strange
and everything politicized
forgetting no matter how well
We speak the truth is true
: we are all one.
Oh mama we are all one indeed!
Oh, mama like John said, ”
everyone is high and there’s
UFO’s over New York and I ain’t’
surprised.” Such strange
days indeed!

:: 09-28-2017 ::

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September 29, 2017

EVERY POINT OVERLAPPING EVERY POINT

By EPRobles
AND the pot of gold was resting
there by the  contraption of another world
so baby cry, cry, cry and are we old enough
as a world to know baby
  we can cry and laugh holding
planets and stars within our hands
  yes, we are old enough my smiling
baby Jesus’ with a message at the
train station of life and death.
Especially the voices of crying
children who remember to know better
so cry baby we all try to hold on
to the future of our best wishes
and mostly we’re all programmed
by that way-station on the other side;
our hands holding unknown things
our minds almost remembering them
historical amnesia is our diagnosis
so baby cry
            so baby try
                        so my oh my
greed is an infection
muted voices a reflection
and all the tears like metal
the smell of static like space
lost astronauts in twisted steel
and the pot of gold resting there
by the contraption of another world
making my mind scream.
:: 09-28-2017 ::

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September 26, 2017

THERE ARE LARGE HEARTS AND SOME TINY FINGERS

By EPRobles

there are large hearts and some
tiny Fingers clasping the
tender petals of teardrops
and if my own mouth large
it would taste and dare eat
the sun gloriously drenched
sanguine-golden promise

vertiginous and spiraling
like as when heads of daisies
by blue winded skies breath
twisting swaying in deep love
is how i think of you my love
is how i know i how’d is
this love more than art!

:: 09-26-2017 ::

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September 26, 2017

Seriously What Would a Poet Be?

By EPRobles

\\\SERIOUSLY, what would a poet Be
if all the words written were of
love? Desert. Dry. Fragments
of pieces of wishing? Who knows –
only you. But this I know.

we want only a few things in this
life: Sex, food, comfort, shelter,
and love.

Aside of that. The few remaining
awaken who dream wish a bit more.

truth, life, knowledge, and
the taste of GOD.

I’m sleeping on the right of the bed.
take the rest of it. \\\

:: 09-25-2017 ::

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September 26, 2017

ACCELERATED TO WORDS WITH DRAMA

By EPRobles

The tempo of life began as a whimpering limp
accelerated to words with drama and life
and the colors of the world drew me close

and so many unlike me fell to the
WAY SIDE of oblivion and obscurity
And the remaining flesh left with eyes
from the gutter looking at the world:

And the blood of my heart shifts as sands
of a dry bleeding sandstorm that keeps
each foot ahead of the other for I
am the conductor of my own words!

And there are times i believe my bones
are not living now but wishing under
all the weight of possible lives.

:: 9-25-2017 ::

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September 26, 2017

Do We Outgrow Love

By EPRobles

Do we outgrown love? No.
That love is great
is no surprise to humans.

We live within our skin
That is enough to say
love does not outgrow us.

But what is love? To think
a fleeting emotion for most
the garbage that needs taking out.

In our modernity we are compelled
to seek the best and strongest
that lasts forever until;

Our need to love grows
beyond the capacity of that
we paid to quell our needs.

This, unfortunately, is love
and flesh too. And we can
blame it upon consumerism.

Love is not a deed.
Life is not a landscape
that should be sold to the

one with the most money.

:: 09-25-2017 ::

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September 26, 2017

We Are Nature and Nature Rules

By EPRobles

AND WHAT IS the largeness of God?
All knowning and compassionate?
Judge, jury and executioner?
The beginning and ending of all?
the Alpha and Omega.
If so, then I am only one human,
a thing created by that One who
is surpassed by all things.
But this I do know: compassion
has no limits and greatness is
not confined to words. And
beginnings are not really
a beginning but moreso a
continuation of Life. And i am
focused on truth too.
My foot is within the ass of
all those who have polluted
the concept of a God; control
is their device but mine is
of Love and Patience. Let
the worlds’ institutions burn,
let the false words crumble,
and allow freedom of Sprit
to Rule: We are Nature.
And Nature Rules.

:: 09-25-2017 ::

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