Tag Archives: #words

Strange Claims Adjuster

My Sweet Lover of ages / the Strange Claims Adjuster
of mysterious poses \ within a world so cold
making pink ice cream ponies,
How we scream sometimes at each other and spit in
the frozen air /touch me if you will upon my stomach
where all butterflies are tied
up \ —-> i met the corner
with the skin of my soft hip
and sanguinolency masterbation
spread outward into the castle
where we went || deep inside
the body of our MIND
ABYSSOPELAGIC lust! Oh okay,
the next morning we went hunting
(after that funky time) for panacea.

She took me within her arms with
more than two eyes burning inside
(the lights went out) I fed her
special green grass and she sang,
“Taradiddle” oh wicked __ nikki.

I spoke a word, “
Mercy” but i could never buy my
Life back with any money ||

Kisses mellifluous while watching
syzygy align!~ We grind.

:: 07.03.2022 ::


SAILOR SAILING BLINDLY

On one of these laps of the fishing boats with their red sails that scour the island of the insane we look up.

The woman who was staring from the harbour is back there, in a sea of people.

We read about the great gap between the people and the colonialists.

The press that did not come here that shows pictures of half-naked women with white clothes and black teeth.

The madness of the man on the second floor is beyond the penetration of the purple arrow.

We read the messages of the leftist and the feminist struggle in Portuguese and Spanish and we do not know what it means.

The man who raises up the voice of union does not know the relatives who listen to the voices of the streets and of the flowers and of the trees the voice of the ascetic saying that does not stress the ear.

I clearly knew beyond this stormy weather within my head. I am the poet writing this prose.

The sailor sailing blindly — flying!

:: 07.02.2022 ::


HEAD JUICE

Behold the silver river of head juice
plumb line who is privy to secret love

i pierced the sight of diamond dust
kissing the white peacock as she spread
her tail beind the crust of acid lies!

it comforts me / so relaxing i smoke
her smile full of lip stick sketched
backwards to have never been sensed
but by me ~~~ an atonement for false
wittnesses / of pearl fishers whose
feet are full of beach sand
— their faces turned into a coral pink
their breasts swinging around the shop
window greeting men with coffee and no
milk

i voiced two worlds and even without
purpose served a two-bit thug stealing
my verse —

A pendicle from the central chandelier of
the Earth.

I refuse to feed them!

:: 07.02.2022 ::


A Beautiful Fire

Love weighs as much as the dream that dislodges a swinging door in the high and the low mark is furthermore, the gold coin that vegetates in the forest of one night as a single night gives us the sense of yes and the contradiction of the no of that coin; a swinging door every night gives love to the intermittent stars — two contradictory shadows make love the most splendid flame and establish forever the golden principle of love.

The lamp that the text of the shadow has broken into a thousand fragments of dawn lets out alchemical words and a million shadow-years we respond with a million woman-years each woman is an alchemist syllable.

The mirror and its minute waves deliver us to life that part of simultaneous high and low tide with great power we cross its burning chest more demanding than the cyclothymic toche and we go out into what they ambiguously call life attracted by the reflection of a twinkling of feathers while at our back the mirror thoroughly erases its images and we unarmed do not find the entrance, we who find the exit luxury that groans in the night the lamp has cut its wrists for love to finally know what darkness is Love weighs as much as reality that dislodges that swinging door opens inside closes outside exteriorizes a specter the puberty of sleep internalizes a world that swinging door camouflaged as a jungle and only one tree is enough to dissolve its mystery the phoenix of love throws its ashes into the air!

Love can ignite the eternal fuse and it flies from the X in an ever-expanding poem as ephemeral and lifelike as the Moon is engulfed by an abyss in that same ultimate solitude Love is burning and it glows through a beautiful fire.

it is not the sound that makes you cry // it is not the sight that tears your eyes \
it is not the touch that hurts
it is not the feelings that make you cry
it is the scene of the moment
and it is the moment of the perspective that makes you cry
and you cry with your whole being as if you have never cried at all
and the other minute waves carrying the alchemical fire in the silence
awash with words like hidden tears
then return that reduces you to a mass of loathing

It is that once that sound has passed you, that one expression that sends you into mourning that begins to tarnish the form of love and make it hollow, its hero, once human, becomes contemptible, quiescent, and unconscious.

Only then are you in proximity to nature in a phenomenal intimacy.

:: 07.01.2022 ::


Cricket and Bee

The cricket woke me!

As it scurried by, I noticed it was wearing a cloth (as if it were a tail!).

I had no sense of what time it was, but I noticed it was (after all!) about daybreak.

(This was later told to me) that many bats are nocturnal, or else they are so easily startled, they flee to cover their heads and hide.

In their defense, I suppose it may well have been mid-afternoon, for there was a palpable somberness in the air.

But, I felt there was no time to lose. I was to find EROS and leave on my mission.

With some haste, I left the dark streets, and headed south. I walked along a dirt path, although I did not really know where it went or to go.

The area was shrouded in darkness (though there was just enough moonlight to see) and as I walked through a hedge of willows I felt disoriented and was careful to go very, very slowly (if not all in terror, I would surely turn to cactus!).

When I reached a “Road” I noticed it had a layer of pebbles on it, and walked past it, just in case there were some venomous snakes on that road. (At that point it would have been more like trying to get out of a sheet of plywood than to a mat of tinfoil!).

As I walked, it became more and more foggy, and though I could see quite a distance ahead of me, in all other directions it was pitch dark.

When I reached the far side of the light of day, I happened to look ahead of me.

In that brief moment, something fell down in front of me!

I saw it laying there, spread-eagled, but before I could move, it rolled right up onto its feet and began running towards me!

It had been a mosquito — and it had died — just because of me!

I was trapped in a painful searing haze of irritation.

I reached for a pocket knife from my pocket, and slowly began inching backwards.

I must not get trapped by the mosquito (i)n that maze!

I was already avoiding all sorts of vermin (e.g. earthworms, centipedes, snakes, scorpions etc) that night; why did it have to choose me!

So, I crawled backwards, very slowly, back to my camp spot.

I stood up, and in my irritation I drew a cross on my heart.

The mosquito landed on a rock, and I quickly looked around. There was no one around.

Then the mosquito’s wings swept over my head, and it disappeared down into the gloom.

I turned around, and began to head back.

But, as I walked, a dim, red light began to grow larger.

The light grew steadily, until it became a helicopter.

As it hovered in the sky, my exhaustion from the previous night began to grow.

The mosquito had chased me all the way to my spot, and was now guarding it!

And so I did what I had to do: I ran away, in a panic, back to my camp, where I found myself comfor(ing) again with the cricket.

I may have forgotten the sun was up that morning, for I was greatly exhausted.

But it was about that time I began to feel hungry, so I sat down at my cooking fire, and, while I ate, I watched the giant stone (that I had almost stepped on), turn slowly.

Eventually, it disappeared.

I then called out in triumph (albeit slightly in jest)

“It’s gone! I can go home now!

I can go back to sleep for the rest of the day!”

And the cricket replied:

“I’m so glad you could finally see that stone. I’m just happy to be here with you. Be sure you come back again and visit me some time!

(If you should find a bug in your hair, don’t scratch it, it will die! Just take me to its hiding place!).”

It may be hard to believe, but each and every cricket inhabits a different cave; though some are inside of rocks.

Some live in the stream that flows nearby,

and some live inside rocks.

But they all love to hang out together — all the insects in this area!

It’s a great group of friends, we spend all day in the cool of the cave,

and the nights are filled with nature’s best.

(These days the cricket — who I now know to be Augustus Insecta, was the only creature to come to my aid, and stand guard over my hut that night — and many nights thereafter.)

And, while I was happy to leave that place, I still took many souvenirs of it with me.

I used bits of it as walls and ceilings, and anything else I could take, and when I built my home at the foot of that giant stone, I built my roof out of it!

And, to this day, whenever I go up to the “Cockroach Tunnel,”

I still look back, and remember Augustus Insecta, who, I suppose, was the real hero of that place.

I know, I know, there’s a lot more to talk about, but I’ve only scratched the surface.

Those are just some quick observations about that particular cave.

There’s plenty more I could tell you, if you care to know.

But you have to start at the very beginning — where it all began —

and you have to come with me now! I’m happy to say I made it all the way!

That’s right — I can’t believe I’ve made it this far, but here I am.

It was a beautiful morning, and I was ready to escape the heat and sun and I figured I’d just walk around, open the gate, and take a look around.

I’d noticed some new flowers in the past days and wanted to see if there was anything interesting around the creek.

I headed up to the rutabagas, and there was something very strange about one that had suddenly bloomed, while I was gone.

I was flabbergasted by it!

Then, I heard a strange sound. It was coming from the pines!

I was so shocked, I forgot what I was looking for — and, it was too late to go back, so I went to see what I had found. I found it quickly, and it was indeed a bee.

But I could tell it was not a normal one. It was not fat, and there was no veil in its wings — I was amazed by its size! It was no bigger than the tip of my finger, but it seemed much, much taller. And, it looked almost as if it might fly away, but it sat on a leaf near the creek’s edge.

It sat there patiently, and then, it began to walk down the side of the hill, as if it was walking to meet me.

“Hi! Hi! I’m the Bee,” he said!

“I know you, I know you!” he said.

“I’ll tell you what I am — I am the longest living creature

who will ever exist. We share this earth with the other

creatures, but, only in relative terms, we have a lot more in common,

and they’re quite nice and useful.

// eprobles.com //


DO WE EVEN CARE?

I cried blood and tears
from across the room she held my eyes
with the same grip  tomorrow while i saw
tomorrow’s feelings–  with her mask of fake
feelings / angels and demons smelling her

Disarrayed — feeling the skin of her neck
like a strawberry and shape of the marks
of her soul i touched — and now the dogs
found her, to find her.  I dug the fiction
deep in prose-mud || yeah ||
  I am ashame to confess —
darkness touched my breasts like i do during
female masturbation (and the weather) inside
the disarray i colate emotion and animal feeling
  TOMORROW i count down to Mars and dance in
my soul test driving strong attraction for
love and science _ the spaceship thrust
it’s rockets making my nipples hard and aroused /
Where is the smell of lost ancient thoughts — to
find it — to find it “I said, I will not put on
my mask”heroically to the Starbucks employee like
Rosa Parks.

:: 06.30.2022 ::


My Better Half

LOVE is a taste of Fear
when you don’t move

An Empty canvas of Art

Well, allow me to explain
how you forgot me:

Oh, well, vibrant touch
is what you said years
later when your life
took a turn. And all
I taught you was everything.

Oh how I bleed my heart
then you died, so far away
like a high cloud in skies.

I took a walk outside
surrounded by beating hearts
of insects and humans.

Oh i am twisted around my
head spinning as the sun
falling down — it’s my better
spirit for the Everything
of Lovely World I See —
all that I could be.

The Soul I loved Once.

:: 05.5.2022 ::


The Cave of Mystery


THE mouth of the cave gave mysteries
as butterflies spewed from it’s dark mouth.

The jack rabbit loped away toward the crested
ocean’s shoreline.  The moon stared.  Brilliant
silvery light upon the grounds around the dream
of the poet.  

And words formed into dreams he could not write
until he slept / away from life \ toward the truth
of all that is real.

:: 06.23.2022 ::


Bifurcated Thoughts

WHAT is that __
               \
                I am sad or happy]\
? “come on…” talks like a possum
oh Karma arrested police makes me feel\
  –? if it’s what you feel;  if it’s
what Kings and Queens dealt;  oh Night
camera-pareidolia / its what we eat
and what we digest in memories }}oh
forever i lost myself inside time
and space || many little ones \ oh
forget and forgive religion and
all sense of self –P{r}etty\
flesh cave inside the world.

And the world keeps on raining
all the graves opening to begin
again.

: 11.07;2021 ::


RAIN OVER THE MOUNTAIN

WHEN you’re done the poet heard people in the hall, and hushed music.
He was lying on his back and his lips started to taste blood and the chorus came up
and the boys started to sing and Oh oh oh You are alone in the river!

You’re all damned in hell. All the aborted babies screamed, “So lucky to meet you!”
I can still see your eyes as bright as the day of judgment.
You’re all sinners and damned in hell. I can still see your eyes as bright as the day of judgment!

Hush
Hush

You can take it. We’re the good guys and you’re the bad ||
Right now it doesn’t matter! That your frail screams rise to heaven
We’re the good guys and you’re the bad
Right now it doesn’t matter.

Tears up through her veins go insane
and begging God to stop the rain.

A self-appointed Judge judging and jury.
The world gives it’s life for greater end.
Her angel stood by too long and now plucks
it’s eyes out and lights another cigarette
to comprehend how dead is so dead.

So soft is skin. So scared. Addiction is flesh
and blood.

:: 06.19.2022 ::