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:: 10.07.2022 ::
Tag Archives: #poets
THE DEEP SEA DREAM
As the wave erupts and floods you in your sleep.
Imperceptibly you slide towards the madness of dreams.
You feel the sticky dampness of a nightmare.
Your dilated eyes as magnet tar pit traps drowning in white ocean.
The wave of sleep reaches up to hug you gently,
holding your limbs. Taut, anchored to the bed.
your brain without moorings off your paralyzed tongue ~~
the waves finally drowning you in the coolness of dreams
beyond all fathoms.
:: 06.19.2022 ::
PARAGRAPHS OF DISCOVERING ME
LONG winter days
then City nights
Unplowed fields
full of snow
lit by millions of lights
Wearing tears from living
Wonderous painful life
Not sure what it’s suppose to be
Oh love if it’s not the world
then it must be me
A lover first for words
i believe in paragraphs of
discovering me; a lover’s thirst
for humanity —
the poet does not envy
does not boast
and is never proud
without a pencil we crumble
toward the ground____
the paper; a scroll of the soul
for all eternity.
:: 02.09.2022 ::
THE WORLD IS A MONSTER
The World is a Monster.
the secret destroyer
eats you all the same
desires and blood
is the game ~
From blame to blame
From sorrow to sorrow
we can’t fake it
no more
From darkness to darkness
and Death lies on Earth
The Land, the Water, the Earth,
the Birds and Animals,
And Man – the Land, the Water, the Earth,
the Birds and Animals,
And Man – like the Wings of Love
the Kingdom of the Earth Is a Prison
Under dying Souls.
To never be saved.
:: 02.01.2022 ::
RAINDROPS NEED SUNBEAMS
Like winnable wars like broken hearts
feeling there’s no living gods
Like a poem that is out of reach
that no ink can write — i feel you.
While dreaming hope like a smile of love
without a lover a little foot step
without impossible dreams
there’s no unbeatable odds.
Shall I say it again?
With dreams there’s no
invisible walls and i sing,
“I just want you”
There is no Juliet without
Romeo, there are no thrills
without incurable life.
and I just want you
and I just want you
And how are you?
There are no in-crimeable crimes
no reason or rhymes why we lock
doors between living and life.
If there’s an Alpha I say
oh me again (omega) possible
dreams and I just want you
i just want you i just want you
how i dream fall-smiles
within your soul dear
Are all the beautiful flowers of your soul!
:: 10142015 ::
rev: 11.10.2020
TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL
Bells of St Paul’s Cathedral i love you!
in a dreaming –> slipping away!
you take my soul with you
dreaming something unlike
my life which I never owned!
my heart is a large mouth
but your notes too perfect for my plate!
I love you!
you take my soul with you in a dream
like a song; you ever wanted to climb
up a temple that isn’t there
and sing, “You are my goddess:
you make my heart rhyme!”
You’ve never seen a part I won’t show you-
tell me how you feel.
I dare you to say what you need to say
only say the same words
I gave you.
You take my soul with you in a dream like a song
I’m still alive! And even the walls believe
that I am yours-then you stare in the mirror
and everything is gone — and you scream, scream:
you feel me I’ll sing you mine!
And it’s in the color of my eyes-and I cry.
In a dream like a song I’m still alive!
And even the walls believe that I am yours-
and you stare in the mirror and everything is gone
and you scream, scream:
you feel me I’ll sing you mine!
and it’s in the color of my eyes
So sweet angel, tell me how you feel.
:: 10.05.2020 ::
TIME FELL BEFORE MY ACHING FEET
TIME fell before my aching feet:
that i know little is more than
most who think they know all;
i watched time squirm before
me as a puddle of water —
i saw her dress make sounds,
silent before a breeze toward
trees.
i wept as a dew against
moist violets, as nature does;
and saw time die before me.
her greatest hand was sharp
dampness of a violet leaf
that cut my heart within approaching
exasperated winter hunger.
today i met space who cried;
having lost his best friend
called time his tongue was pale
searching for dead bodies and
broken teeth.
:: 09.21.2020 ::
ANCIENT HEADDRESS
(a very long time ago. i praised bewtween
two great poets)
from a hill i caught the last verses
of Will Shapespeare
— a paintful story from a sistering vale,
so silky moment with no end this double voiced
accorded, and lay my head within the biggest bosom
of any woman: a sad-tuned tale; my perfection
is a twisted selection that tangles souls; above
her head barbettes and torques of misty streets
so ancient from then to now: a favour of plaits worn
on each side of the face.
beauty and love are not aligned.
it moves with seasons of eonic time.
:: 08..02.2020 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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