The mystery of Love
is that i never met you
but have held you within
my dreams tightly as each night
hungry i prowl the streets
within my dreams till dawn
disrupts me, i devour moments
of these fragmented scenes.
Today is yesterday’s tomorrow
and tomorrow is today’s dream ;
as a wolf i prowl the sovereign
heart i call my Love as a puma in the barrens
of Quitratue.
is how i adore the love of you and love’s mystery.
:: 01.18.2022 ::
I’ve BEEN invited alone
into a carefully distinct sex
whose sharp fangs comb
my thoughts so ghost
Within these disarrayed eyes
from ground into green
zinc coffin with mask
i found this memory appears
a slab as spine in bits of
red and CLARA VENUS scent.
:: 12212021 ::
HOW the rain came down as drops of lit sunshine is why i started to laugh:
since life broke my heart
i found my Soul within a cloud so full of darkness
and thunder-song then i laughed
such deep blues
As though we’d just won a war and the world rejoiced
all inside my head — my skin said, ‘you can leave whenever
you wish’ i decided to stay instead
a heart full of silky scarfs of rainbow colors for us all
summertime out /as if life’s a real thing\
so i cried
as the rain came down as drops of lit sunshine is why i
started my laugh. Butterflies and lonely tears screaming
/reaching for air\ is how rain came down as drops of lit
sunshine is why i started to laugh instead of tears.
but my garden is green and lovely by the touch of my
private heart.
:: 10.24.2021 ::
We must meet in a toast you gave to me that other morning in the wood where the boughs of the woodlot are ragged and snagged with ice.
When you were gone I filled a glass with water and put the sunflower seeds in it and made this toast to you.
And then I wiped the water off of my cheek and put the sunflower seeds in a pile on the counter, and put the water in the sink.
When you came back that afternoon I told you that you should stick your fist out of the car window to prove that you were alive.
I wondered if you heard.
We must mow a grass lot of lies through, we will be mowing that grass lot a grass lot, lying.
It will be grass, lying on a hay, who at the base of that hay, dead in all her glory of flying away.
There will be broken pictures left where they fall, so many broken pictures that they fall to one side and miss the pictures they meet and forget about those they lose.
And then we will be mowing that grass lot a grass lot, lying.
:: 10.19.2021 ::
REMEMBER ME? Denied as night’s face
you took love and spread it across those
golden fields of gold
shadowless prey?
i bring peace : moon of all days &
Watched the western pressure of these skies
move – predicted an end so we never began.
EXTRACTED hate from whispering grass?
how clamped lips starved joy in time
and starved space. And golden peace.
You will remember when the northern moves
and love’s murdered eyes dissects
to mere faded memories __
while we walk upon burnt fields and closing
skies.
True, we never promised years or faithful love.
:: 09.17.2021 ::
“S” hissed toward my heart
as from Eden’s garden!
Sibilance! As seven
suspicious snakes.
A loquacious theater upon
the lagniappe stage of life.
The word. As an ancient
bookstore i shall call,
“Vellichor!”
My Soul! As sanguinolency within
my dying heart. I watched the
group of wild mustangs rush
into the purple red desert night.
Then lost eyesight.
Forever.
:: 09132021 ::
WE shared sunshine and laughter beneath an umbrella with cocktails and
absences of cloths –you had a glint within your eyes: remembering ancient
memories from ‘ago.’ I touched your skin (forearm)and you awoke. Toes deep
in sand//Explaining how you do this from time-to-time.\ you asked for another
Manhattan i retrieved it for you.
you drunk bitch.
:: 08.19.2020 ::
i dream sometimes — i dream
of expansive fields
of flowery love where fear
does not exist is what i
sometimes dream: i dream
i woke up within this dream
and could do anything my spirit
and heart wish’d : i wish to
be within expansive fields of
flowery love where fear does
not exist is what i sometimes
dream.
i dream.
:: 07.25.2020 ::
roots and nerves
move dirt
boots and struts
make us
a brilliant nightmare
of sherbet lip-tasting
tears of a broken one
who knows any ‘thing’
but that ‘thing’ we find
killing us all slowly.
:: 07.23.2020 ::
hmm…
i find it very very easy to be so true
so all inside of you i keep a close watch
upon the leather book of my prose because
its you (of course) — i find myself
admitting i’m a fool just for you/ i ate the sun
and spat out darkened light and happiness i felt from
you hmm…
i find it very very true
that you have a way to keep
ME next to your side —
hmm. so i have a heart and
something called truth:
so i admit i am a fool
just for you — natives say
both day & night are just fine
because you’re mind.
:: 07.17.2020 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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