i INHALED a summer bug
down my dry throat
— so lovely its okay \
so happy because i died /
and reborned years ago
within a paint jar —
Firefly heart; hot night
booked for years & every
day i was scared; lit my
candles until I found God.
:: 08.15.2020 ::
I
Not a firefly but equal
to a glyph and less or more
as light within a cage of flesh
steals like riots —
my mind prowls the poverty of
Life.
Excommunicate while suffering
without shutting up and hearing
past ghosts whisper:
“dying & hungry.”
08132020
AND like poured water the love spreads a peaceful river across these wooden
floors aspired; dying or sleeping it reaches a lake alike my own
dreaming wishes! Sore, purple-lit shores oh burning sand!
And tearful horizons cutting light — appears an apparition of love!
Should i, after mourning and tears, conjure strength from God’s love?
Such strength is in nature and my heart but so too a refraining
strength of force in such crisis! I am no saint and church prayers
in summer burst-colors all sins turned purple butterflies away!
And soon! as I have seen so you the coachman beacons at cool night
a lonely soul comes away from love!
And what saddle-ridden journey has such a soul forsaken
to get across now, Unto eternal life?
:: 12-18-2014 ::
::rev: 08132020 ::
To be far from sounds, cities, and horny ones,
i wrote colocasian:
which went un-noticed.
its dull honey-color tempted gods
and makes human souls sweat in heaves.
AND my beating heart makes a neon sign
sad;
as though it would make me stop from
wishing Merlot. the deep diver searching
for pearls or ancient shells.
Ghostly whispers wishing seas that
undulate heavenly songs a-flutter
through currant bushes of sea weed.
my heart and eyes:
paint the image upon my brain;
please; see me –>
as a slave to all, to admit no passerby
to adverse towns.
:: 08.12.2020 ::
How long….how long can i hold your hand
within the darkness of this night!
Look! The moon shines — sweet heart / shines\
i have not felt flesh moreless a caring hand within this
venture called Life. Beautiful.
And now you chance the winds , the rain, and the world?
and of me?
I am drunk, high … i am fixated upon beauty of a heart
as you are.
We could cross the road toward wilderness or toward
the concrete city — i prefer wilderness.
Where we can be brilliant intelligent animals fornicating
under the silver light of the Moon.
Stay near. Me. So that I cam smell your skin and fill
my lungs with you.
:: 09.09.2020 ::
TO never solve miracles of science
TO never have crawled out of a c–ave
somber thoughts
although some are a blessing
to a curse
some ensure military solutions
never understood words : but if
i ever lose my love | IF i ever lose
my Faith …my faith in you |
come home with me…that i may fill
my arms with you.
:: 08.07.2020 ::
zאכלתי את המצפה שלי: בלעתי אויבים ששונאים אותנו 0-0- אז פפקט: אני רוצה לאכול אותם מבפנים ולזיין אותם ממערכות ההרס שלהם .; אני עכשיו כדי לעזור. צופה נשמות
What is GREAT CREATION?
painting or love?
writing or drawing?
the bleeding organ of
an artist knows.
it kills before he
is done. plastioning feelings
morbid thoughts i found myself
inside a tangle of trees
: and worried scholars are hairy
loved brutal: epitome and swum
across the seas. I screamed as
a virgin!
\ after the worst of days
of any age –on these nights
when blood meets moonlight
never feel bad for me.
i was glad
to grow upon any night
so winds sing sounds–the
gates are near
ii.
when i wake up–Over there,
framed by a heart whose ventures
i love; take me August nights!
after the worst of days
of any age
on these nights
when blood meets
moonlight.
:: 08.02.2020 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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