Tag Archives: #words

March 26, 2021

POETIC PAINTINGS

By EPRobles

SHE would pull back her hands to her sides, her furrows bear poetic paintings with a past unfolded in crosshatch, reprimands to the unblinking, to the untried to never covet an hour lost and found, the length of a sunset, a sun weighing us down, now or then looking away to a beach that doesn’t seem our way, reputed for its unchanging coral reefs and saying it’s way more glorious than the beach next door, as we know, the one nobody cares to swim into.

Then my hips, already weak, begin to shake though when you come with me, if we should go by car, we’re together, on ground heavy that your steps cannot change.

I must say more, but you know the story. You must hear the secret though only the Sages were allowed to hear it.

It is a light; my dark world turns into a coffin light, the whole thing collapsing, if i miss you, my sadness begs, but there are no answers what to do when everything in you, in all of us weeps for absence.

Better for the room’s overhead to be darkness, for me, for my heart’s an end that must not bend, a blade lost in sand. Can no healing be between our two lonely hearts without me weeping and no consolation
without you wanting to know, when we’ll fall in love again?

Want to buy a song give a gift of musical genius the way we never stop loving, until I can be safe again.

I’ve lived alone for the last thirteen years, still living off my memories of her, but having no contact with her — except for my last few days, of course.

I wrote the only song I can sing now, and there were no lessons to be had in any language even if you had known about me, about how I suffered in my anger, from the depth of my despair,
you would not have come near.

:: 03.26.2021 ::

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March 17, 2021

DEMIGOD RUMOURS

By EPRobles

By this time she began to pant with the effort of speaking and died. The grief of her children was doubled, as was that of their father, and he swore before the woman whose heart had broken that he would never again be destroyed by fire, and would walk out from his house to dwell by the sea.

The gods were shocked to their foundations. They believed that they had truly killed Zeus and had been giving his body to live; for the children would come to the holy site of Delphi to praise him as they remembered his glory and proclaim their great dread. On their approach they met the priests in the street, but the fathers waved their children away, and said ‘They think they are honouring the Greek gods. They are not worthy of our esteem!’

‘Why not?’ asked a young girl who wanted to know, ‘Why should the Greeks think we are honouring Zeus? We are honouring a great man, the greatest being in the universe.’

Her mother, an oracle, retorted:

‘You are saying foolish things! Your father has sworn, and your sister has sworn, and so have I! So let this death of our mother be an eternal lesson to you! Whoever else shall say such a thing, shall by my hand or by the hand of your children be flayed.’

This brought him to his senses, and he put his arm through his daughter’s, and declared:

‘I would die gladly for the Greek gods, but we shall stand together on one side or the other, and offer the fire to the gods of Zeus as a sacrifice for the foundation of their city. If they refuse it, we shall always come to their aid, as we did in the great and terrible earthquake that was prepared for this very day.’

He died in peace, though at first it was rumoured that the gods had destroyed him, when he refused to go against them.

:: 03.16.2021 ::

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March 16, 2021

SHE LEAVES BEHIND FOR THE END OF TIME

By EPRobles

Thus men tumbled, whilst each struggled for peace;
And the lives of one overlaid and those of the other,
and fortunes of two falleth to the first:
which, when few lived, did vie with one another;
and now half died, so that now one lives.

Tho’ to each a body to live, yet they grapple
upon one common body; thus this strife
of gods, and men, and air, and water,
the product of long labouring labour,
bringing tenfold glory to Caesar’s era.

Then seeing which only worked greater grief
and loathsome toil, what I should in this short space fail to copy,
i reflected on those works that I thought most difficult,
And composed the poem above, to divide the toilsome march
with one finished task to be done; and yet to finish
with a sigh and a droop, a little less evil than it began,
but therefore nobler in sentiment than it began.

So therefore, last rites and unhappily now,
this song, until next next time, alas! thus sad.
Oh but these thrills and comforts that Nature gives,
which every hour she bestows, are, alas!

Till last year, little could reach those whom Nature
possessed by the book of science, but such
as she leaves behind for the end of time!

:: 03.16.2021 ::

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January 29, 2021

LAT DOLCE VITA (the sweet life)

By EPRobles

There’d be no unemployment, no crime, no war for profit; no environmental hell
for thousands of good-hearted lives.

You can’t just take so much paper so putting it off would mean at least ten
not calling till the 11th hour and hoping that you’ll forget what you needed —
i’m in a zoo somewhere between silence and (a)the mad hatter’s court of love
where the loneliness could prove impossible; i’ve been way too loquacious all day
all this time i’ve been riding in this very leather-bound bus how’d i get to this
zoo? maybe too much of this
counting bills counting wheat in the fields
counting my cash on the street
counting time in a silence-devoid world
The natural state of mankind is boredom trying to find the meaning in something so small
i’ve got too many words up in my head!
If you see a stranger carrying an extra pair of sunglasses, don’t steal them. We all
have them. They’re free.

Once in a lifetime, you meet someone who seems to have no fear. They don’t blink. They have
nothing to lose. I used to wish there was someone like that in my life, but all I’ve got
is a little bit of fear.

You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy. What can I say?
Lizard-head heartbroken the love has gone — boo hoo you’re so fine, mama
: first wind it and you want to know if I still love you?

YOU, COME IN HERE, DON’T LEAVE until YOU’VE JOKED AND BEEN WRITTEN!
TIME DRIVER, THE NAMECHE MACHINE la dolce vita what a wonderful disguise
and this has been my argument ever since it’s as true today as it was then, for there’s a new king
who’s clothed in human suffering’s radiance treating it like toothpaste to his face
waiting for us to laugh at the pretend form of our wives and to learn from the conman; he’s played
all his own moves, but he’s still just a kid.
So we all shut up, on a rampage of rants and sarcasm to serve the king’s audacity; nobody wins forever
who’s ever been “the funny” when you wanted to be “the wise”?
we’re here to pick up the pieces, we get the job done, we go home
we’ll never see the boy king’s face until the queen’s hair grows back
(and he gets wise and goes home to his queen and gets “the funny” back) if the boy king turnS on us
we’ll all be dead, so, sing, ride, don’t sweat the consequences of casual cynicism, anything goes;

wear my crown and be the greatest boss of all.

i love you.

:: 01.29.2021 ::

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January 28, 2021

WE DO NOT WAKE UP

By EPRobles

We do not wake up, there is a valley of sorrow and misery, and in the center a dark demon glares with a hatred we cannot understand, a knowledge we cannot see.

We know nothing, we are nothing, we sit in a valley of weeping for ourselves, we realize there is no one to help us, and we wish that when the heart of love is finally destroyed andwe can fall into ourselves, into our true nature.

It is sad, but from it comes the healing, when we realize that we are sick in ourselves and we must reach out to a partner who will touch us in the wound, so that the poison may slowly be expelled, so we can live as an organism, as we were born to do.

I think we have to take the time to come to this realization that we want to stay with our minds.
We have been damaged by our children by ourselves and by other forces, and the hardest thing to do is to come to terms with this.

It is easy for a mother to give birth, but it is hard for her to watch her child grow into a whole and healthy man while she is always behind.

She feels anxious, frightened of losing what little she has left to give. Men do not share this fear. They are not even afraid of death.

They think they know the world and their problems, and they will always keep fighting.

We do not even need to understand their logic nor to get inside their heads. They are in the middle of an existential war they are always fighting against something they do not even know.

So men do not need to fear, and if they do, it is because they are hard and cold, with their knives and guns and dogs that bite.

A mother is afraid:

if her child will not return from school
if he will not come back after a quarrel
if he is running around with another girl
if he does not read.

A man is afraid of something else, i don’t know what.

We are not animals.
We are thinking beings.
We feel too much,
we talk too much,
we have to communicate our deepest thoughts to others,
then we must understand their thought processes and their weaknesses, and they must understand ours.

But we must learn to communicate with ourselves, to love ourselves, because as a creature we are vulnerable.

But also as a thinker, we are loved, we can love other creatures, our children, even the world.
At one time there was a wild animal hunting in the hills, when he came upon a village it was a very sad time.

The men had been working hard and not having any luck.
But the women were crying,
saying, “You do not need to work so hard, my beloved men,
there are big dreams, there are old dreams,
as old as the hills. We love you so much that we wait for you,
we send you messages when you do not see them, we touch your dreams
with our minds, we send you questions, we can tell you how we feel
for you, because the animal knows that he is loved.”

The women watched the animal as he ate and drank,
smelled the air, noticed their faces.
Then he got up from his seat, moved through the village,
and let himself be known.

He held out his paw to the men and it was accepted with joy.

Some ran to touch him.

He led the women into the village and they welcomed him into their homes,
and wept for joy.

I thought, “The creatures know they are loved.”

But they also know that they are afraid of dying, that their own blood can come to kill them.

I thought, “The animals are in danger, too.”

But they do not know this, because they are not close to their fear, they do not realize it is very close to them,
close in their minds.

And when I thought these things, I heard a noise in the jungle,
the sound of a motor.

It made my ears ring, but it did not frighten me.
The animal took a few steps toward it.

But it did not know where it was coming from.

And when it did, it took off.

In the meantime, in the village, all of the men had stopped working.

They were talking.

They were trying to understand each other.

They were moving their hands in the air.

They were communicating.

Some of the women went to touch the men.

They started crying.

Some held their husbands and children.

They were giving away the little they had.

Their own blood had turned to blood of the animal.

That is why they are always thinking of the animals.

Then they saw me.

I was walking with the animal,

and we had gone to a cave.

I think the animal wanted to give something to the women.

I thought,

“the animal is giving away a piece of himself,

but I will stay with him.”

So I went inside with him.

Inside, the air was cold.

It was dark.

But I had a light,

and my blood made a light.

There was a pungent smell.

The eyes of all the creatures were fixed on me.

But they did not frighten me.

I have been here before.

I was here when I made the first birds.

:: 01.27.2021 ::

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January 25, 2021

NOW MY GOWN AND TULLE

By EPRobles

Now my Gown and Tulle
feel the Wind that weaves a Shade –
and on the roof i cannot tell
since the picture there is –
because Time, a Form, stood a-hiding
and well It did.

Words and Music (my own)
Performed by James Dale
and Love.

“He is oft-injured by his men
or with their Menages,

‘I think I hear him say:
“His Portents are the Dews –
His Words the Dews – and Mine –
His Ends are Ieya’s.

“I wish this next Scene were ended
with the Destination of my own Fate –
“The Flight of Orpheus, I suppose,
“Off the Coast of Homer’s Folly –
Or Death – to Eternity.”

Futility was King in the play, under the pen of D. H. Lawrence.
I hope he was a reader of Shakespeare.

Well, I cannot write about this.
It is really too late.
There was an early book, and there is always another.
The fact that Lawrence is a poet is very well known;
and many of his poems have been put to music.

i have heard those – sometimes for many times – though
i should hate to go against the dead.

A great deal is being written about D. H. Lawrence
in the second decade of the twenty-first century.

:: 01.26.2021 ::

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January 22, 2021

ROADSIDE BILLBOARD SLOGANS (1940s-1960s)

By EPRobles

TOASTER oven sandwich grin on the family corner market keeping all the secrets within your baby warehouse teach your kids about love. Take 30 percent off their soul and i like your mouth come on in; let life fill your pie hole-soul & don’t go bacon my heart
: i couldn’t if I fried! and you can’t drink all day if you don’t start in the morning! and T.Troup was a chemist i’ve been missing life reading-seeing soundbite lies; the first concentrated lies come from roadside billboards like-life riding in a Chevrolet.


THE thing what IS IT? a golden opportunity sale family fun!  shakes & funnel cakes ~~ beef jerky too! and Wall Drug sells coffee for 5 cents a time ago

“YOUR MESSAGE HERE”


for 300.00 a month

:: 07-05-2015 ::

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January 22, 2021

SO NOW

By EPRobles

so now

That the Iris opens her eyes upon early morning sun
that the wind dances her showy flowers and is luck
the lost voice of forgotten lovers?

some Not

when wind forgets its dance and green devours
(feelings) by nature’s beauty shall the fisherMen
of hearts sail from continent to unknown places;
their gravely instilled by amorous desire.

some NullAS not would never go there.

:: 01.21.2021 ::

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January 16, 2021

LOVE, FEAR, LUST OR GREED

By EPRobles

Love, fear, lust or greed?
A thousand diseases blowing in the wind;
the hungry voices of hatred eating each side!
i caused pain within my life, that i did,
deciding at birth to give care upon
the blue marble i landed upon with baby feet.

i uplifted the crust of Mother Earth,
and swift torrential rush of drama-death;
only mockingbirds sing at night sweetly.

And the starRock light stabs the night
falling, falling, falling everywhere
is the moon and Her Light!

Blossoming memory: well the last days
of winter, of my life which was as full of
dim, mystic musings, and when one day,
my soul was high, and my body was a fountain,
my mind in cloudy wisdom;
as i had been taught a certain
manifestation of guilt, then i understood
the meaning of life!

So i climbed down from the high-place, in
my heart, and in my mind, each life cycle,
chased with the fall of leaves, cradled in
the arms of the earth bringing back meaning of life
each hour of every day.

As i did so, i put in a stasis a profound
tree-spirit; my movements in time could not be
restored, my mind was silent, an image seen
in my consciousness was born of my broken heart,
it was born of care for my precious soul!

But the sacred tree-spirit i brought
to life was proud, it ignored me,
it stayed on the heights of my mind!
i knew that even the past has a home in the future,
that the stars which never fall in the rain,
their waves have no end, have risen in the trees
of my life, and a new dawn was coming.

It filled me with hope.

:: 01.16.2021 ::

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January 7, 2021

WHAT IS LOVE

By EPRobles

There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say
You remain my power, my pleasure, my pain
To me you’re like a growing addiction that I can’t deny
Now won’t you tell me, is that healthy, baby?
Now won’t you tell me, is that healthy, baby?

My power and my pleasure;  an addiction…

So “God is here, with you, and in you.”
 There is a supreme and infinite pleasure that fills your heart.
Some languages of love will only permit love as a verb or simply a noun.

You are part of everything; you are not separate from anything.

Everything is part of you; you are part of everything; you are not
separate from anything.

So, i am and should fall large and in light that you shine,
can you see me?  So baby, I compare you to a kiss from a dream
i live every day.  

You may feel your experience of the world is disjunctive – somehow
disconnected. What is the actual nature of our existence? Is it
static, or in constant flux?

Maybe that is just your individual perception.

But we can try to figure it out by seeing how things affect us

  • and how we can do that.

This path we choose is about learning how to communicate effectively
with what we find, giving it meaning, and acting in ways that contribute.
If we are engaged in the pursuit of love in a real, open and collaborative way,
we can witness how relationships change and grow.

We may start with a story, but we are essentially learning how to be a partner.
We can see in our interactions how we are unbalanced, not yet aware that we need to change.
Over time, we discover what we are trying to hide, and begin to open up in our relationships.

The inner change begins with our hearts!

:: 01.06.2021 ::

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