WHAT of the man who adores
the baby breath of his child
and conjure ancient-spirit
to protect his broad
What of the man that love
the spouse who conflicts
the concept of enternal love
Who can say — without delay
truth or right – I’d be dismayed
what true love be in light of humanity
Hush my fellow human – say nothing!
Let the tides swell – believe me
the shores be clean post-storm
— this day
::12-26-2013::
QUIET SPACES kissie comfort
spiral-pain touch tickle
blood reaffirm a memory
life is what you live
Seductress enters dream
mixing tonics skin-liquid
thirsty-soul drink-hungry
higher mind slap-shit you
Choir boy suffer stiff collar
dead one endure post-life
love ones shun past-memory
so thick process-life
makes you wonder
— who is better off
dead or living
::12/26/2013::
MY WISH is to apologize
to those that endure
the prose of a feverish mind
My emotions are molten lava
and my psyche mere human flesh
So when my desire is to write
I scream within and transpose
with flash-time swiftness
and never look back
— it is my weakness
Forgive me for transgression
and I always include you all
— within my nightly prayers
I wish to find the dirt
upon my face without
a grave marker
— read and forget me
always
::-12/26/2013::
LOVE has no shape
it turns around
and bleeds into thoughts
and sounds it sings
— into an ear
And causes the skies
to weep in sheets
— of winds or tears
Love is all around
for all to see
It can cause one
to blow their mind
and seeps into a soul
Because we love
and love is the truth
as truth loves
— you
::12/23/2013::
AND in this morning
— ice-baked skies
that I be drawn to the
glass-cold window
was a pleasant
— albeit utter surprise
To see — I did!
Across the way
beyond the oak
between the frost
and misty cloak
the Monarch
who flittered by!
The grand vision
— crystal snow
drifting flakes
against noble color
such a butterfly!
::12-24-2013::
MANY masks have I seen
and a few I have known
But the most of diabolical
is not the mask of evil
nor the grotesque
— but the innocent face
which behind hides
the truest of evil
— the sociopath
::12-22-2013::
THERE is a sound
not stirred nor made
that rings a tone
not sung nor heard
To hear it requires
— a quiet place
Not here nor there
But within the void
— a solemn place
::12-22-2013::
I BOUGHT a slice of peace
for the price of half my soul
The merchant frowned
as I placed the cost
across his counter
— frayed and worn
was my soul…
But then I showed
the inner half
— was brilliant
and pure as gold
‘My good man…’
— said the merchant
‘Just a piece shall do’
::12-22-2013
TODAY such senses
ignited my way
Such a gift from on high
— oh my!
The trees melted
into the firmament
as molten blue skies
with cloud-white dew
gently dripped across
the lands of Mother Earth
What power that be
that ignites reality!?
Only love…it can be!
::12-22-2013::
WHERE must I go
to kiss a dream
and hug a thought
or such things
— to fold a river
or bending time
Seriously I ask
such silly questions
might you smile
— or even laugh!
But it’s my pleasure
— as my heart
nor my spirit ever grew
beyond the age of two
Why would I ever
ask for forgiveness?
::12-22-2013::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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