AS a heartbeat
I heard a voice
and the voice had a sound ; like
a song of something: words?
And the words were entwined
in a sticky glue some may say
are feelings and the fire-tips
of those dancing flames had
a weight called emotion
and the emotion was like
gravity next to a black hole
and the black hole was inside
a cave of bone called Mind!
:: 06-17-2015 ::
oh Royal Blue above
all of us, loved
oh golden soil below
that souls kiss
and all of all of you
so preciously a gift
that souls should know!
I sing with silent voice
and feel with shout!
And dance the birth
of life in every moment
this life should give
to me; today tomorrow
yesterday and after
;thoughts of you
my Royal Blue above
my golden soil below
the world is a meal!
the soul a hungry mouth!
the heart a dish to hold
this thing we call life!
::; 06-13-2015 ::
AND ponder the dried once-tender
stems of bountiful beauty
of spreading once-color by
nature’s own heart clinging to a dream
now faded into the soil
Breasts heave and men shudder by utter
extant fear//life with the margin of
once-unstained white
A few deleted unspoken
thoughts;dripping parts of broken dolls
sadly laying to sleep
spanked and put to keep
by shelves of dust
scolded hearts interrupt
: punished prisoners
:: 06-13-2015 ::
WHO hates me? scholars? sisters? Brothers?
Mother? Father? I write the words
of my heart and expect no return!
I write the pain and pleasure and never stop!
I was a child and then I grew up! And now an
ADULT OF DEAD CHILDREN — not
me but you!!! And who are you?
With your foundation of preconceived
poetry and I’m so sad to say! A MEAT puppet of academic
halls and you can tear down the
diploma of your years learning –>
try to make something NEW ON YOUR OWN:
and then I’ll notice Y O U
—->>i PRAISE change AND FEAR
no-thing within institutions
and I’m living FREE –? ARE YOU!?
:: 06-11-2015
WHO hates me? scholars?
Sisters? Brothers?
Mother? Father?
I write the words of my heart and expect
no return!
I write the pain and pleasure
and never stop! I was a child
and then I grew up! And now an
adult of dead children — not
me but you!!! And who are you?
With your foundation of preconceived
poetry and I’m so sad to say
a meat puppet of academic
halls and you can tear down the
diploma of your years learning –>
try to make something NEW ON YOUR OWN:
and then I’ll notice Y O U
—->>i PRAISE change AND FEAR
no-thing within institutions
and I’m living FREE –? ARE YOU!?
:: 06-11-2015 ::
WHERE ALL m i n d s
meet when resting
is where I wish to be!
Perchance b e neath
a blooming peach tree?
upon the cusp of the lips
of a smiling clown or
Y E T
\–/ within the bosom of my
u n k n o w n
lover )0)0) is WHERE I WISH
t o be!
I love my ;;–> better
than you!
:: 06-09-2015 :: rev 1.1
I AM flesh
-lessly human and
full of busy days emotion
I am s tran gley less
tha n most
The soul of Antiquity that
forswears bedecked beauty!
–I AM everything I’ve met
and curse not
the things that
vex me — I love myself
so much better than you
What can I do?
:: 06-09-2015 :: rev1.1
BENEATH the tears under the eyelids
of a broken heart across the fields
above the vast skies you see your soul
floating in dreams
Gently weeping spirit-soul speaking
to all you take a cloud inside
your mouth and all cellophane anger
melts so you find yourself in a
paradise of laughing Zebras holding
zero-umbrellas on a tram-trail to Heaven
And all the worries you ride upon the
car-marshmallow ride
A nirvana trip of hearts: if you
picture yourself in peace
:: 06-10-2015 ::
It’s been some hurting time: I lost it in a dial of fountain garbage youth — catfish mouth hooks and I never saw you sorry inside
Boreas is colored freezer pain! I haven’t had a hand job or pie Since the government gave me opportunity or more chances than churches where Jesus hangs on solemn walls while
flesh bags cry and pray for all their sins in a covered wagon somewhere in the 1950s black and white television. Gee I never knew ancient ones wore makeup and butterfly Lips like a hungry flower in a whore field. The sky gave me her scars like purple vaginas missing periods for months.
And Billy went to the store to pick up a jar of fat pickles. She never reached behind the curtain but I had my dummy and a fist beneath his cheap shirt making all the moves of a failed life.
11-03-2014 ::
 | 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… |
 | Stefan on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
A DEAD SEED IN THE SOIL
THE first heart to be loved by its most bitterest
friends has died broken and destitute; a worn
flag flown across all this ruinous Nation
of an Anti-amorous planet and dirty children
throw their mud-crusted hands into the air
and weep for their heroes and whores and addicts
say, ‘Tis the last day of Earth’ \\ Let the shadows
swallow the deepest throats of Hollywood
Let the tendrils of Unforgiven
snake through Wall Street
and Squeeze the puss from
the Wallets of Hungry Warlords
but save the Unicorns and
the Tender Butterfly-Lips
of all the World’s children!
06-13-2015 ::
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