THIS is 3.5 years into Hell.
Everything you know is now gone.
And the man with one leg; across the street
is screaming about Jesus Christ.
The sun is setting.
the smell of fires aready in the air.
how heavey air.
And the smell? Of burning children.
of burning children.
:: 02.05.2024 ::
In the hush of morn’s embrace I tread,
Where love and grace, a cosmic thread,
I stroll midst fields of earthly lore,
A shepherd’s heart, a sacred core.
Each soul I see, a cosmic spark,
Eternal echoes in the dark,
In joys and sorrows, love’s refrain,
I find a strand that won’t wane.
On rolling hills, in meadows wide,
A dance divine, a universe to guide,
Lilies bloom, and sparrows trill,
In every heartbeat, a cosmic thrill.
Forgiveness, like a gentle shower,
Washes away sin’s gripping power,
A river flowing, deep and free,
Through every heart, my grace, you see.
In humble homes and bustling streets,
My presence lingers, love repeats,
Acts of kindness, pure and true,
The path that leads to skies of blue.
The broken, lost, and weary soul,
I hold them close, make them whole,
Mending wounds with tender care,
A Savior’s love, beyond compare.
Let your light shine, a radiant beam,
In the grand design, a vibrant dream,
The tapestry of grace unfold,
My love in every story told.
Embrace the truth, the way, the life,
Banish hatred, anger, strife,
In every step, in every voice,
Hear my whisper, the soul’s rejoice.
In the pages of this verse divine,
A timeless message, a sacred sign,
Love one another, as I love you,
In this eternal, boundless view.
02.05.2024
In a glen where moonlight weaves its gentle spell,
A fairy court in secret, where tales of love do swell.
With wings of iridescence, they gather ‘neath the trees,
Loving fairies enchanted, dancing in the evening breeze.
Their laughter tinkles like a stream in sweet delight,
As they weave a tapestry of dreams in the soft moonlight.
A mortal man, a gentle soul, stumbles upon their glade,
Captured by the magic, in love’s enchantment laid.
Fairies with hearts so tender, wings of gossamer grace,
Flutter ’round the mortal, a smile upon each face.
They whisper words of wonder, weaving spells so sweet,
As love blossoms in the moonlit glen, a dance of hearts complete.
He, a mortal dreamer, lost in their embrace,
Entwined with fairy magic, a love so full of grace.
The fairies’ laughter mingles with his heartbeat’s song,
A serenade of enchantment that lasts the whole night long.
United in the moonlight, a tale of love unfolds,
A human man embraced by fairies, their story to be told.
In the glen where dreams are spun, beneath the stars above,
Loving fairies and a mortal man share a timeless love.
:: 02.01.2024 ::
WE are all victims of humanity
to each a personal defeat
fallen upon our knees
Singing praise while
our blood drains ~
We accept this reality
while upon this heavenly rock
amnesia prevails / forgetting
what are we \ we accuse fantasy
while standing upon rock.
:: 02.05.2024 ::
Notes:
The depth of emotion and existential reflection conveyed in my poem titled “Ghuilgul” reflects where I am now in Life.
My use of succinct and evocative language contributes to the contemplative atmosphere, exploring themes of human vulnerability and the collective experience of suffering.
The opening lines, “WE are all victims of humanity / To each a personal defeat,” immediately draw attention to the shared struggle of being human.
The imagery of falling to one’s knees and the juxtaposition with singing praise while blood drains suggest a complex interplay between vulnerability, sacrifice, and a sense of duty or devotion.
The phrase “We accept this reality” encapsulates a resigned acknowledgment of the human condition, emphasizing the inevitability of facing challenges and defeats. The reference to a “heavenly rock” introduces a spiritual or cosmic dimension, adding depth to the existential contemplation within the poem.
The use of unconventional formatting, such as slashes and backslashes, adds a visual and rhythmic element to the poem, enhancing its artistic and abstract qualities. If you have ever been a reader of me you would know this. The repetition of the phrase “while standing upon rock” creates a circular structure, emphasizing the cyclical nature of human experience and the enduring challenges faced by individuals and society.
The title “Ghuilgul” adds a mysterious and enigmatic quality to the poem, inviting readers to explore its meaning and connections to the themes presented.
“Ghuilgul” stands as a thought-provoking and introspective piece that captures the complexity of the human experience and explores existential questions with a poetic grace that resonates with the depth and nuance expected from eprobles.
In twilight’s arms, a tale takes flight,
A tapestry spun, secrets alight.
Content whispers, a gentle kiss,
Love’s embrace in the moonlit bliss.
“Content we are,” lovers confide,
Stars twinkle, a celestial guide.
Yet shadows linger, subtle and sly,
A mystery hidden, a watchful eye.
Through sorrow’s orchard, a river cries,
Melancholy notes, where a heart denies.
Tears on love’s petals, a mournful dove,
Dialogue of pain, coos from above.
Joy, a butterfly, dances on air,
Laughter’s echo, beyond compare.
But whispers rustle in the leaves,
Paranoia’s dialogue, a tension that cleaves.
“Joy is a mask, so fragile, so thin,
Beneath it lies a world of sin.
Sense the tremor, the lurking dread,
In elation’s corners, where shadows are fed.”
Horror emerges from the heart of night,
A chilling breeze, fear takes flight.
Moonlight reveals faces unknown,
Dialogue of terror, a shiver-prone.
“Embrace the darkness,” the voice entreats,
In the labyrinth where fear competes.
Juxtapose joy and despair,
Mystery thrives, paranoia’s lair.
So, the tapestry weaves, emotions at play,
Contentment, love, sorrow’s array.
In life’s symphony, shadows have their say,
As night surrenders to the break of day.
:: 02.01.2024 ::
The greatest smile is DEATH.
How welcomed. The eternal embrace!
But how i belong here — beyond the
world’s end _ no longer human.
i embrace ~ with the broken!
:: 01.31.2024 ::
(i went to the doctor,
… told him i was dead.)
In chambers of white, where shadows dance,
A soul approached, a spectral trance.
The doctor sat with wisdom’s stare,
Inquiring of the ailment rare.
“I come to you with heavy heart,
For life has played a cruel part.
In death’s embrace, my essence lies,
Yet here I stand before your eyes.”
The doctor, wise in healing’s art,
Raised an eyebrow, not to depart.
“A paradox, this tale you weave,
For life and death in one can’t cleave.”
The patient, with a hollow gaze,
Recounted tales of ghostly days.
“Within my veins, no pulse does beat,
Yet consciousness and self, replete.”
The doctor pondered, deep in thought,
A riddle spun, a truth unsought.
“How, then, converse we, spirit kind?
For speech requires a living mind.”
The ghostly figure raised a hand,
A spectral gesture, quite unplanned.
“Though breath may cease, my voice persists,
A wraith with tales, a soul that insists.”
The doctor sighed, his mind perplexed,
Engaged in dialogue complex.
“Tell me, then, what led to this,
A life entwined in realms amiss?”
The phantom spoke, with echoes cold,
Of destinies and stories told.
“Life’s thread unraveled, fate unspun,
In twilight’s grasp, my course was done.”
The doctor, with a measured gaze,
Considered life’s mysterious maze.
“Are you a specter, lost in gloom,
Or just a soul in living’s tomb?”
The patient, spectral and forlorn,
Revealed a truth, in shadows worn.
“I dwell betwixt both realms unseen,
A ghostly vessel, caught between.”
The doctor mused, with furrowed brow,
On realms where mortal meets the now.
In dialogue profound, they tread,
A living doctor, with the dead.
A tale of life and death entwined,
In chambers white, a dance defined.
A poet laureate’s verses soar,
On whispers of a ghostly lore.
01.30.2024
Upon the inside of my dreams
There was no wind when i took
the watch across the seas
& when the ocean withdrew breath
and waves white-capped
i saw clouds of glass
within amora my heart said
‘roll over, roll over.’
how i had awaited restlessly
Upon the opal glass finally
talking sweet /within my ear,
the sound so strange, ‘mistral,
mistral…’ \
winds_____close your eyes again
my gentle breathing giant.
:: 01.29.2024 ::
Oh, speak not of my heart untrue,
Though absence seeks to temper my desire,
As readily I could bid myself adieu
As part from the soul within your fire.
In your bosom lies my dwelling of love:
If I’ve strayed, like threads unraveled, I return,
To the moment, not with time exchanged above,
Yet with my essence, a cleansing urn.
Never think, though frailties course my veins,
That they could mar this sacred trust we share,
To forsake, for naught, your myriad gains,
For you, my rose, my universe is bare.
Within its vast expanse, hear my call,
For nothing exists, save you, my all.
:: 01.26.2024 ::
Is love too young to know what CONSCIENCE is
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:
For, thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body’s treason;
My soul doth tell my body that he may
Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason;
But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
No want of conscience hold it that I call
Her ‘love’ for whose dear love I rise and fall.
“The Little Love-God Lying.”
:: 01.26.2024 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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