I’D give up heaven to be close to you / but sooner
or later fate decides \
How i never wish the world to see my heart’s so broken
INside my Heart a forever rain
that never seems to dry
so every moment of truth & lies
can never understand but understand
i wanna know when i fell down the rampart of
horror’s unknown )inside + out( to strive
hard my angel wings so bruised from this day
Who i am
Who i am
is the
No One
within
Life.
:: 11.01.2022 ::
There are darknesses in life and there are lights
and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.
You are an example to all of us who love you.
He wished to kiss me again, and I resisted it this time,
but in the back of my mind it seemed to me that he had
almost been in despair.
You don’t hear or see somebody talking in this way unless
something terrible has happened to them.
I told him I was there. The man he wanted. I wanted him.
And then, feeling ashamed, I hugged him.
Now he was getting the message: I loved him!
That’s the last thing he needed: to feel loved, then to realize
it, then to die!
Suddenly I didn’t feel tired anymore, and we went on our way.
Him unto dirt and me into the world naked.
The next days I was determined to get some news from him, any news,
by his ghost but there was nothing.
As such I expired my body by blade. Bleed. And became his
as he was mine and I was his.
:: 10.29.2022 ::
[Cosmos] Does the idea of death afflict you? Does it, coward?
[Humanity] No-no it does not!
[Cosmos] This prospect is inevitability.
And watch: all the skies are chrysanthemums
and the stars are little fish . Dreaming wishing
to awaken you wished to die many times over, but now
it is no matter — all violent are skies of your
heart turned red to purple.
[Humanity] To die requires more than living.
[Cosmos] Then begin at the beginning and release the colors
of your art. It is the beginning!
The weaker artist will say and ask:
“That’s why I asked you, because you are the only person I can ask
without scaring you away. If you can do it, I will give you all
the money I have and say I will do it myself.”
[Cosmos] Then you shall never create but reproduce.
[Humanity] This thing must be arrested; that is why I am asking you.
–silence–
:: 10.29.2022 ::
no one promised paradise
a thing ever imagined
no sentience no matter
just energy ink well
dipped words glistening
is black on white paper
became me due to you
my born imagination
fractured but never
broken | horror living
horror dying horror
if you had seen all things
i’ve seen you’d cry
is a flower dying for water
a world of never raining
societies of not forgiving
became me_______fractured
but never broken.
:: 10.27.2022 ::
Not that anyone cares.
In the lightless hall striking scores with hands, toes, thighs, waist,
the gesture becomes language itself; surgeons wear masks, the women wear masks.
Mirrors on the walls
Reflect glasses on eyeballs
As heads, arms, hands, feet,
And legs are moved and erased,
Draped in skin-tight gowns
Which hang from feet,
In corpses’ striving twists,
Untransfigured hands grasp pillows
as they are pushed back to lift dressings,
as they try to fold clothes which flutter to the floor like bared breasts
As heads are pressed into pillows, like soil into seed.
And he is no doctor.
A vampiress is there, and she fixes her eyes on him, her mouth curling
to cast a dead girl’s smile when she speaks to him in Her foreign tongue.
When he leans over her to press the mirror to her forehead
as she is being lifted for transfer to Healing care, It is a mirror
Of life, and he asks his patient
What she sees,
And she responds,
“You see?
You’re dead.”
And now her stories and poems appear in public space, best poets, prairie Schooner.
Too.
:: 10.25.2022 ::
QUIETLY UNSEEN
Forgive me, father!
In youth, at country fairs,
I didn’t seek out boring shooting galleries where every shot hits,
Rather, those loud places where donkeys
With weary flanks unfurled long bloody tubes
I still can’t comprehend!
And my mother too,
Whose slip smelled sharply,
Rumpled and yellowed at its hem like fruit,
My mother who would climb noisily into bed
-A daughter of toil-my mother, with her
Ripe womanly thighs, her heavy hips
Creasing the sheets, got me hot in ways you shouldn’t talk about!
A rawer, calmer guilt came
When my little sister, just back from class,
Her clogs worn down on the ice,
Pissed, and I watched a mawkish thread of urine!
Escape from her tight pink nether lips.
o forgive me!
Sometimes I would think about my father:
At night, card games and bawdy talk,
Our neighbor stopping by, me shoved aside, seeing certain things …
-Fathers can be frightening! -The things you imagine!
His lap, sometimes cuddly; his pants
My finger wanted to pry open at the fly … -Dh no!-
To touch my father’s dark, fat, hard head,
Whose hairy hand had rocked me!
I shouldn’t speak __|
:: 10.25.2022 ::
i LET the tears fall down my face beneath the shame of living weak
i told Gabriel take me all inside my heart is a Sun
mostly never seen — and they burn away | oh yea yea
i FORGET the summer banks of French shores
but brothers died there so i relate
all for war
all for whores
all for personalities
who hate
Sliding like dead souls on the malaise yesterday
shivering whirling yet i move o — somewhere
deep inside like an old soul crystalling so i jump
too much i blush i sharpen my rage
you left me so never to be the Goliath of your Word
citizens bragues trampled by traps of cracked minds.
Their dirty hands cleaning the gout of urine on the war-
spread sidewalk where bodies lengthen in the sun’s heat.
Poltergeist activity continued at nuisance level — a coke can
returned time after time to the top of my burea inside my bedroom.
Fork and spoon hiding rather shyly in the sink — children’s characters all
me dying. And Bill and Ben of the Flowerpot
Men, coming back to check upon the child
i am. I jumped inside the car of my best friend
from the 16th century and we rode out screaming
“alive alive!”
:: 10.25.2022 ::
i kick the stones
out my way | take the blame
, eat the fruit & hang from
a branch or a cross ! lay your lace and get this mother gone — i bowed a cross so gather around : and i don’t like how you make me hang around | and i don’t like what you got me hanging from a blaming fruit ? could it be priceless taste or how you always make me hang from your mistakes? okay, taste the blame, eat the fruit, kiss the snake
i never liked you had me hanging
for your mistakes.
lay your motor-rage : eat the one
mistake got me burning you and your
soul | and i don’t like what you’ve
got me hanging from and I don’t like
what I’m hanging from : all your
mistakes.
:: 10.23.2022 ::
BY DEATH OF FEELING
BY
death of
f e e l
-ing or
passion of tasting:
i ATE YOU devoured
all existence of doubt |
my Thoughts all Inside
the confused lovers
looking.
glass__________
ate’ing butterflies by Nature
i AM NATURE : eat me too &
sing songs without words but by
your Souls!
:: 10l23.2022 ::
I am (my love is) love as if you were
the free rising winds
of life or arrow
of roses and thorns that disperse despair!
I love you as towering buildings
stand tall and thunderheads speak
with lighting;
my nature is natural to love you as the
plant that blooms and carries beauty
hidden within itself until the light of sun
brings forth those flowers as my heart
blooms for you when the world sleeps.
I am there I love you as mystery breaths
the interest of wondering minds and the
dense fog of some- time life is difficult
but mostly I am deeply
appreciative that there is no I or you,
only our hands entwined by faith, love,
devotion and time.
I love you.
:: 11132015 ::
 | 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… |
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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