the heart beats for Life
and sometimes Life dies
while the heart remains
beating / all my friends
are fly and my enemies
earwigs \ i spoke in third
person to the second person
who said the first person
died from gossip. two lips
tripping through the tulips
times time tells the truth!
:: 02.07.2020 ::
&, my Love do not save my seat
i’ve planned it since my love
has decayed
The Great Escape
your face was a portrait of
poisoned beauty
AMPERSAND
the rejected regrets!
&
:: 12.22.2019 ::
along the shorest road ever (a treacherous journey) an opening appeared before me;
bright equations bleeding time squished all memory of what i was i am or might be–
A preponderance of suddenly)meets the long Shaman of My Thoughts. i lassoed upon
a moat of dust (cherubs swinging cherubs singing) & road myself)not that way(toward
a whole certain corner )_and touched mySelf searched mySelf…forget mySelf when i
think of who many broken Kewpie dolls cry silently foreverfully and mySelf and
myHeart and mySoul invent grand ideas of an Enormous Language
that touches all hearts.
:: 02.07.08 ::
i have r e a ch e d beyond the earliest and now dying starts
over hypnotized whispered secrets within an ear and f i n d ing
mySELF lonely on this planet.
Escaped and hanging within my Darkest Dreams — away from all
social scenes /i saw a butterfly soar away just today; upon
its back carried all my lighest Dreams/tomorrow morning
i will save my life again so save my strength i scatter hope
across these azure skies with hope and love.
:: 02.08.2020 ::
eye-GASMS are artful things
of flesh left out by the
woods / she went were-wolves
once ate meringue pie before
acquiring a human fedora and
impressed all the women at
the outdoor market where
butchers smoke meat and
flay cigars with white whiskered
smiles. Where were the yokes
when sadness crept over the
clouds and a comedian choked
on a badly baked joke. ?
::08042019::
EPRobles c 2019
A bicycle
of delicate heart
focused
in all gossamer, thrills
the minimal slice of time
; keeps my ‘no-one’ mind
thinking i’m here but then
i see i am there too;
Around it, demonic shadows
and scarred knees, bristle
i do for those rumors
humans devise:
i once lived so easy with
my eyes closed
didn’t matter that much to me
oh! bulb’s agitations;
that i never think others
are within my dreams
okay, too tune in when it’s
so fine My bicycle takes
me (me?) though i know when
it’s all a dream this ode
of Life!
:: 05-14-2019 ::
e.p.robles (c)
then,
after, as though my head a forest
there! A shiver down my spine;
with odor of roots in our nostrils
i am one to wish drowning next to this!
Like the ooze of a pregnant moment
we could kill this monstrosity
of magic! Murmurous you darkness,
sifting down from our head
Hearts are smallest millstones
as if anything really matters //
matters to me \\
:: 05-14-2019 ::
eye | someTIMES tear my
eyes OUT — found the last
sheep to COUNT no longer within
my MinD oh!so here we go:
In fall of light and highway,
a Child your hands upon the
wheels — him holding up in his hands
uLtimATE Delirium –\ now, here we go
–stop–
05/14/2019
e.p.robles(c)
this static treatment of hyper light
–>th r us t : all mediums —
theater, cinema, drawing,writing,radio
streaming, on-demand /[dead; how can He
reach me? \]
All of my fits of term-rage are TERMS
in all literal sensibilities of WORD.
all borders of all mental space contain
the Soul bilocalty.
and your lovely and fearful emotions
are exquisitely horrifying.
The true image of Love.
:: 05-10-2019 ::
No need! No deed. Just now the sun has
come to rise (and you are proud?) that her breasts
are spread upon your bed. The spider laughs near
the tightest corner of the room, but shameful you
forgot her name. To those that have offended me
none more than disheveled men who call themselves
gentlemen. Mother! Let us succumb to temptation
that brings us to harm.
:: 05-07-2019 ::
 | EPRobles on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
 | Adam Fisher on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
| EPRobles on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
 | R. Marshall on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
 | Stefan on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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