Tag Archives: #writers

October 17, 2023

The Revealing

By EPRobles

I had too — once I ate all the words of the universe.
We had a delightful dinner. Just me and ? I drank
Merlot and smoked weed and we enjoyed the tapestry of
space-time.

I asked, “Do you have a voice?”

Waiting for a small time I spoke again.

“Hey! Speak”

And she did. In her female voice. The univeral voice
that is the Mother of Creation.

“I love you, dear.”

“Child of Earth,” she said, her words echoing in the depths of my soul,

“I have observed your wonder, your dreams that reach beyond the confines of your world.

I am the embodiment of the universe, and I have chosen to reveal myself to you.”

I am Celestia, the consciousness of the cosmos,” the celestial being replied, her presence enveloping this poet like a warm, comforting embrace. “I have watched over galaxies being born and stars collapsing into cosmic dust. I have witnessed the dance of planets and the birth of life on distant shores. Yet, your world, Earth, has always held a special place in my vast existence.”

This poet was captivated by Celestia’s words. “Why have you chosen to speak to me?” she asked, her voice filled with humility.

“You possess a curiosity that mirrors the essence of the universe itself,” Celestia answered, her radiant form flickering with colors beyond human comprehension. “I have chosen you to be the bridge between the cosmic wonders and the human spirit. I offer you knowledge, wisdom, and the boundless mysteries of the cosmos.”

Overwhelmed by this profound connection, this poet felt a surge of inspiration. With Celestia’s guidance, she delved into the secrets of the universe, unraveling mysteries that had perplexed humanity for centuries. Together, they explored the realms of quantum physics, traversed the event horizons of black holes, and marveled at the cosmic ballet of galaxies.

As this poet shared her newfound knowledge with the world, humanity underwent a renaissance of understanding. The barriers of ignorance were shattered, and the collective consciousness of Earth expanded to embrace the vastness of the cosmos.

In the quiet moments of the night, when the stars glittered overhead, This poet known as Maya would commune with Celestia, their conversations transcending the boundaries of time and space. Through this extraordinary connection, the wisdom of the universe flowed into the hearts and minds of humanity, guiding them toward a future where the mysteries of the cosmos were no longer beyond their grasp.

And so, the story of the female universe and the inquisitive human became a beacon of enlightenment, illuminating the path toward a greater understanding of the infinite wonders that lay beyond the skies.

:: 10.16.2023 ::

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October 17, 2023

Sex Club Poetry

By EPRobles

In my age I confess this:

Once I had a Poetry Club I created.

It was within a Strip Joint of high order.

Nothing but the most beautiful women.

I would visit on Wednesdays and go over

my poetry with those lovely women.

And I would read.

They would contemplate those words afterward.

How I miss my poetry club.

Not the sex but these lonely women.

:: 10.17.2023 ::

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October 13, 2023

TIRED IN THE SUNRISE

By EPRobles

What ‘if’ isn’t hesitating?  Those like us who burn in a midst of already
forgotten proclivities?  

The memory of a worm at the level of a shoe has more comprehension than
a  human brain today.  It’s a flying bird sitting upon a tree branch.  At the
level of a statue whose computer rages within a digital age of phosphorization
of Elon’s satellites.  The color of these glasses are pink in love or torrid lightning
As salt and pepper are tastes of a nutrition of alerts like napkin furniture

Historically the retreat of pastures who view a burning fire with their relentless
disinfecting tongues as swords of hate are the future — like pristine advisors
of death where retro doors are seen

I adore the reddish pillows like Koi fish which my head sleeps upon dreaming new
worlds as they cut waves with ciphered.  

I am who I am.

:: 10.12.2023 ::

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October 9, 2023

BUT NOW I K N O W G O D

By EPRobles

Another’s dream I saw
through my eyes
when I dying-Did
that little prick
of painful life
exquisitely handed
(by angelic-puke
bile and mourning sun)
and planets dancing
stars screaming fire
and the cold breath
of empty space
inside my head a toc-tic
tic-toc sanging bleed
on some unknown stage
I have always played
upon:

Confused for a while.No
more since I ate
the thread of golden
knowledge her string
cut my mouth but now
I know GOD!

:: 12-08-2014 ::

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October 7, 2023

A HEART FOREVER BROKEN

By EPRobles

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, ‘The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’

Within this dark lonely evening I write vacant words
and the moon turns from silver to cold blue.

From tops of highest trees the predatory birds sing
as I write the saddest words of this night.

As this night like one other held within my arms
I kissed and was asked to forget by endless skies.

How depth was deeper than any other depth
that my heart dwelled and then asked to forget.

Love, the power of the sun and more I held toward her
breaking physics and eternal rules.

that she loved me sometimes but I loved forever.

so Tonight I write the saddest lines of a poem.

The feeling of night — the feeling day

both weighing heavily upon my Soul.

:: 010.07.2023 ::

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October 3, 2023

I APPRECIATE  THE MAD  HEAD OF POLITICS

By EPRobles

The decapitated hand passes an hour from a flower
That above a spectral chess-city they cry
And ghosts control the furious variety of flesh
Invented like iron and silver structures of thunder.

Since so recently alive in a burst of light
Nomenclature within a ledger of written blood
parting waves and snow, clogs of ice that hands
cannot grasp even in brilliance i CAME.

The pregnant thoughts give birth you big star
in the jungle of concrete called Earth
Within that half-opened mouth of depth of a diamond
Sex is an extreme delight that easily directs a great
reading of a delirious ORGAN of phosphorescent change.

I look up to the sky but my eyes burn ~~~

I touched a goddesses whose chief song
between shelter and pillows; as her eyes carry an air
of a woman without legs or arms –> but a root
we met in pleasure as two doors in dawn / my shape
is tool divine too ; i look up to the skye where
everything is pleasure among the winds of clay
that invite out the tigers of their stems
among the furniture that sniffs out misfortunate
i had a fierce dream and bite the rain
and defend the cold politics of public snakes
whom I kill in the end.

I rubbed the different footprints of my feet
on ocellated carpet.  

:: 10.02.2023 ::

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September 29, 2023

Don’t You Forget About Me

By EPRobles

In the quiet realm where shadows weep,
Do the dead find solace in eternal sleep?
I, a wanderer in the land of dreams,
Ponder upon life’s relentless streams.

Beside my mother, where safety lies,
Amidst the echoes of bullets that flies,
My face, a canvas of fear so deep,
Haunted by the secrets that I keep.

In the midst of chaos, my soul takes flight,
Lost in the darkness, seeking the light.
What is this existence, this dance we tread?
A gap between teeth, or a soul unfed?

Does life consist of mere worldly gains,
Or the whispers of wind, the patter of rains?
Hit me up when the monsters play,
When murderous babies and priests hold sway.

Actors on channels, their faces masks,
Burial plots leased in the shadows’ grasp.
My father prays, my sister bled,
Like Jesus, she rests, among the dead.

Ghosts, like lovers, court me near,
On this night of fright, where darkness sears.
Out of sight, my fears take flight,
Kiss me, Mama, in this endless night.

I slumber now, as the dead may do,
In the embrace of dreams, I find you.
In the silence deep, my soul is led,
Sleeping like the dead, I rest my head.

:: 09.28.2023 ::

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September 19, 2023

THE LUNGS OF THE FOREST

By EPRobles

THE WORLD ate the lungs of the forest
and HUMANS escaped the pain to answer
this little WORLD who they made crazy

Why do mouths lick their lips
and politicians line their pockets with
the blood of bleeding people’s tears?

The devil is knocking upon the living’s door.
. drop your religion of deceit and hate___
how is it when little creatures eat your feet
you praise their words and move on? Haze
and confusion and how i try to step forward…
is somebody gonna save the world? Save the World.

Angels falling — purer than purest pure
whisper of a whisper s0(big with innocence)
forgivingly a once of eager glory.no
more mi8racle may grow — praise god who has
many names and the devil has many more

i walked the miles and awoke the same. In the voice
inside my hEAD. Torturing the words of the rocks
rolling — the day i tried to live bruised my soul
all over. The day mother and father died i knew
we’re alone: say, ‘one more time to die? one more
time around this circus cloud of pain.

The pain was great and hated how my face melted the
paint i brushed across my pure face — so one more
time around, one more time around the joke of how
i tried to live.

:: 10.21.2021 ::

A REWRITE:

06.22.2023

IN THE HEART OF THE WILDERNESS

This global sphere, feasting upon the forest’s breath,
and MANKIND evades accountability’s sharp glare,
for this frenzied microcosm, of their creation laid bare.

Why do lips flirt with hunger’s dance,
and those in power garnish their gains,
with the sorrow of the silent – their cries merely stains?

The shadow of evil raps upon the entrance of the living,
abandon your religion of duplicity and loathing, unforgiving,
why is it, when minute beings nibble at your foundations,
you laud their actions and proceed with no reservations? The fog
of uncertainty swallows, and my attempt to stride forth…
will anyone rise to shield our earth? To save our Earth.

Seraphs tumble — pristine beyond pristine’s core,
a hush echoing innocence, so vast in its roar,
benevolently, an ounce of bygone splendor.no
further miracles may bloom — bless the divine of many faces,
and the fallen one who surpasses in traces.

I journeyed the distance, yet woke untransformed. In the echo
within my consciousness. The torment of stone’s tales
in perpetual motion — the day I dared to live bruised my essence
once more. The day when mother and father ascended, I grasped
our solitude: ask, ‘once more dance with mortality? once more
circle this spectral cloud of torment.

The torment was vast, and detested the distortion of my countenance,
the paint my own hands had gently caressed across my untouched visage — so once more
circle this circus, one more lap around the jest of how
I tried to live.

:: 06.22.2023 ::

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September 2, 2023

LET THE STORIES SAY WHAT THEY WANT

By EPRobles

One shall behold eyes tracing the heavens with magnificent splendor.
Seeking refuge upon the land of the lamp.

A form vanishing while standing,
At the convergence of all light’s end and inception.

Death holds no purpose when you exist,
When your eyes unveil the blueprint of what lies ahead,
When they harbor profound inclinations,
Or solidify the potent union of passionate lovers.

When Earth, when the parched gems of lids unfurl,
When space, not futilely, takes its winged whirl,
When myst’ry lends life its striking edge,
If on Earth it falls, in poetry’s fiery circles he spreads,
In the realm of being and verse, our essence he threads.

The body, once regained through footsteps, becomes meaningless,
Unless a ship from a passionate land lends its influence,
Offering its guidance, steadfastly shining stars,
And a radiant aura like a diamond amidst the night,
With a face that thirst has turned as pure as snow,
And hair that seems to attract like a swarm of magnets,
And a soul, deeply immersed in the embrace of slumber.
It’s your body, your essence, I recognize at first glance.

The covenant of all-seeing eyes holds no value,
Above a fiery line of all lines, unless
they succeed in crafting, preserving their swift wasteland,
And rendering it eternal, like a clear enigma,
A purifying rainbow.

earth, that love is eternally needed
immortal body emerging from a ray’s core
of lightning bolts, which craft a world scoffing at prisons
connecting eyes, love-filled, oceanic diadems

bring
bring
our river of fire, timeless and unbound
flowing through the purified ocean like a native vein.

:: 09.01.2023 ::

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September 2, 2023

THEY MOVE AS INSECTS

By EPRobles

In the glow that binds our souls,
A gallery of nature’s art unfolds,
And through shattered life, we find our way,
Amidst windows of friendship’s ray.
Forget not my key, in this boundless sky,
Where mysteries and sacrifices lie,
Even the forest’s stones, in hasty flight,
Across low bridges, they take their light.

They move like insects, their appetite,
Devouring all the radiant light,
On desks, they feast, and gloves they claim,
With indolence, they play their game.
Oppressed by the weight of bird and bone,
In aluminum letters, their shadows shone,
Upon me, they cast their spectral grace,
In this solar system, our screens embrace.

Where stars of lead in marble fall,
Upon cobbled floors, like birds enthralled,
In their drunken flight, they dance so free,
Feasting on the hanged man’s mystery.
With liana’s stores, they seek their way,
A captive fish in a world of gray,
White phosphorus gleams in its eyes,
With castle footprints, the wind complies.

A tray of spring, the wind doth bear,
From a cement nest, it takes its share,
Forever dispossessed, it leaves its root,
Forever thirsty for lands aloof,
A tantalizing enigma, we chase,
In hands where mirrors once found their place.

The mirrors, they carry bridges, they say,
Reflecting bays in their fiery display,
Lime trees stand with simple grace,
Their carpeted emanations embrace.
May the fires of beauty rise and shine,
In memory’s garden, a gift divine,
To the sun, where secrets are unfurled,
On the island’s edge, in a distant world,
In the realm of dreams, where lanterns gleam,
May our hearts be touched by the lamp’s soft beam.

:: 09.01.2023 ::

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