My smiles are all inside
a jukebox attic of your
forever never-forgiving
bone cave mind!
I have a chisel sharp-thought
bringing me freedom
and you wish your highness
could bring every man
to his knees. I forgot my
parakeet who speaks
all the seedless words
of your tongue.
To wait for a simple sentence
conjures an ink-dipped heart.
I’m just a tattoo kiss
upon your heart.
:: 03-23-2015 ::
The vulgarity of life
like-voices to voices,
each one sharing nothing
but the fullness of noise!
I tell you, when I am three-
hundred years of age
I should still cringe
at such superficiality!
:: 03-24-2015 ::
you’re irresponsible!
beating my blue tongue
i had the epiphany
of the divine
supernatural being
so Jesus wears gold chains
reaching for burritos
inside a cold freezer!
And I hadn’t had a piece
of ass forever!
the funny dog rubs
his ass on shag carpet
and my drink o’Merlot
spilled a splash of
Van Gogh on my impressive
chest — it’s not like breasts
but like the invincible
unobtainium of my brain
Geeks.
Screaming crows on my fence
keep Emily away — gee i c
she buried a brass tube
in her garden — one more
solo? Hey! Yeah!
She took the drums
beating feathers like a fly
buzzing the death of our
souls!
:: 03-27-2015 ::
echo! echo!
the rumbling
tumbling words
i bled! be gone
be gone! i said!
and. emptiness.
the most profound
weep i ever had!
:: 03-22-2015 ::
The vulgarity of life
like-voices to voices,
each one sharing nothing
but the fullness of noise!
I tell you, when I am three-
hundred years of age
I should still cringe
at such superficiality!
:: 03-24-2015 ::
So finally my weak organ!
she is the tears
and fed the flowers —
maybe the greatest
act of this soul,
what hugs me!?!
i am more weakness
than wave or wind!
to possess the skin
of human.
it disposes me!
:: 03-23-2015 ::
A butterfly clip
thin legs sun-tanned
she rolls Beethoven
and who makes seaside
shores — she’s all the tide
a seahorse gallops
She’s got the future
sticky contradiction
of diplomatic treatment
And I’m so painfully out of touch
within her shores!
:: 03-23-2015 ::
My smiles are all inside
a jukebox attic of your
forever never-forgiving
bone cave mind
I have a chisel sharp-thought
bringing me a freedom
and you wish your highness
could bring every man
to his knees. I forgot my
parakeet who speaks
all the seedless words
of your tongue.
To wait for a simple sentence
conjures an ink-dipped heart.
I’m just a tattoo kiss
upon your heart.
:: 03-23-2015 ::
Today it was the, “short-sharp” pains
of a 5th Avenue-dressed-like soul catcher
that teased my spirit to life. Tomorrow
I believe the Southern attire with bare teeth;
a Mississippi-mud soul variety who will greet
me. The crickets have clamped their thorax-
heart and swamp frogs bellied up in boiling
bayou of THAT ONE. There’s still Southern
Comfort!
:: 03-23-2015 ::
I have a devious
minor chord
: it begat life
which I knew —
the fallen stems
of walking
lifeless shadows!
I could hug a
section of any
street if it
loved only me!
and the god-
damn birds
are lovely lean-
ing Songstress
words I am
compelled to die
for! Raw throats
of morning song
— I die.
:: 03-23-2015 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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