#eprobles

[eprobles]

MINSTREL WIND

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 ::

[sepialunaris]

Honestly im waiting for Oviraptor so much because I know they'll mess that up 😂

LMAOO apparently the JWD preview is gonna appear first in Indonesian cinema cuz F9 arrives in Indo first.

Not that I'm gonna watch it but lets see if theres a bajakan 😂😂

[eprobles]

WITHIN EYES RAGING LOVE TONIGHT

I asked my love, in shadows deep, To stay with me, our promises to keep. Do not go dark, my heart implores, For in your light, my soul restores.

How gentle is love, like whispered sighs, A melody that beneath the moonlight lies. Yet anger creeps within our final breath, As we face the cold embrace of death.

How best women and men depart, In the dying light, a work of art. They rage against the encroaching night, A symphony of souls taking flight.

In the depth of darkness, they strive, Dying against the odds, determined to survive. My father, a beacon in the starry abyss, Guiding me through life's poignant bliss.

How we grieve in the silent night, Wondering about love, a celestial light. Blinding, yet tender, in its glorious might, An eternal flame burning bright.

The night, a canvas for our sorrows, Yet love persists, transcending tomorrows. In the quiet hours, we find solace deep, As memories of love in our hearts we keep.

:: 02.04.2024 ::

[eprobles]

THE ICE OF COLD BLUE DEATH

(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 ::

[eprobles]

[eprobles]

[eprobles]

[eprobles]

A HUNDRED POEMS — 056-01

In a realm of FIRE 'midst ICE's embrace, An axe-plosion bursts in fervent grace. A whispering dove, with elegance, draws near, A silent messenger, tranquil and clear.

DEVIL's flames, a soul's sweet kiss, A thunderous passion, a celestial bliss. High sky ceiling traces our love's rope, In weakened hands, the Nile's reed, we grope.

Tossing waters, a vessel's ancient reed, A lonely soul drifting, in realms decreed. Betwixt heaven's bodies and Earth's domain, A sacred journey through joy and pain.

What Kings witness, mortals discern, Angels adore, and the devil does yearn. Yet my dove soars, above it all, Eagle-eyed purity, a divine call.

A hush from Creation, a scene to unfold, Pure light emanates, a tale to be told. In my Soul's style, this verse I weave, A cosmic dance, where spirits grieve.

:: 11.20.2023 ::

[eprobles]

GHUILGUL

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.

[eprobles]

MY DEAREST ~ MY LOVE

My dearest ~ My Love

Today I watched the sun rise awakened hours before by

fitful dreams (by fear only and not by distrust)

That I love you and you love me is the most sacred

bond between two souls;

   as I cannot doubt our love because it

Beats within Our Hearts!

 And if concepts of Profound Sorrow should speak allow

My Soul to interpret for your sweetest Soul ~ Angels soar

But humans walk; 

Just as a painful moment to realize

How much I miss the Sunrise called my Eternal Love.

  Within all my mind, heart and soul I do know we shall

Meet soon.  Because a song bird told me so just today.

She stood gallantly upon a high pine and sang a song

Only those in love would know ~ that we both sing,

Along within our two tender hearts.

That at times I am confused and at other moments profoundly

Introspective there is a single conviction:   that however

Much you do love me ~ my love for you is even greater.

   My Love I am mostly calm; but when calmly thinking

of us together my Spirit is the spiritual essence of

Fireworks beneath a jealous moon.  Do not become weak

By distance nor time as our time has been earned!

I love you and wish you the best of days every day

And please continue to love me within a spot of your

Heart!  I am forever yours and never misjudge your

Lover’s most faithful feelings and most faithful heart.

Always and Forever Yours

  As always every mine

That called:  Ever Ours

 : 01-23-2017: EPROBLES © 2017

[eprobles]

THE PUZZLE OF THE BUFFALO

In this dream,

I wander through a tunnel 'tween the streets, The air as thick as all my misconceptions. The gutters are gone, but fear still competes, And passing lights bring brilliant orbs' deceptions.

Across a cache of weapons, I now tread, My feet among the others in the den Of wolves who seek to know my soul instead, And ask, "Who are you, dream walker?" Amen.

"Are you crazy?" one asks with scornful tone, But I reply, "For reasons yet unknown." "Kill him," says one with shifty eyes a-glow, But I ask why, and hear, "He's just a pig, though."

"No," I say, and then, "Do buffalos roam Within my head?" Yes, I answer alone.

"Let him go," says one with a softer voice, And so they do, and I say with rejoice,

"I love you all, and please learn from this dream: If you just follow orders, life won't gleam. So live a brilliant life, not one too tame, Or soon the buffalos will trample your game."

And as I wake from this dream full of grace, I know that living boldly is my place.

:: 03.04.2023 ::

Analysis: The poem "The Puzzle of the Buffalo" is a compelling and engaging piece that takes the reader on a journey through a dream-like state. The language used in the poem is descriptive and helps to create vivid images in the reader's mind. The poem also explores themes of self-discovery, bravery, and the dangers of conformity.

[eprobles]

I - Love

Oh blood, the life force that doth flow, Invisible rivers that run below, A crimson tide that feeds the heart, A surreal canvas, a work of art.

The essence of life, the essence of death, Bound together in a surrealistic breath, A dance of light and shadow in the veins, A surreal world where love and loss reigns.

In this surreal realm, where beauty lies, And reality is often disguised, Blood becomes a symbol of love and strife, A dreamlike essence that gives us life.

For in the flow of every heart, Is a surreal beauty that sets us apart, A crimson thread that connects us all, And leads us through this surrealistic ball.

So let us embrace this surrealistic flow, And the beauty of the blood that we know, For in its rhythm, we find our beat, And the surrealistic dance that makes us complete.

:: 03.09.2023 ::

[eprobles]

FOUR LEAVES --> ONE DIES

One leaf falls, three remain, Chains tighten like a noose, the pain, My dear, a cartoon in a world of gloom, Cheerios and cool-aid, a taste of doom.

My knees scrape, blood staining my skin, I cry out to my mom, as the darkness begins, My mood changes, and I'm lost in pain, Here again, in the grip of despair's chain.

Save the kids and feed the poor, Watch your wallet, it's a dangerous lure, Accounts like numbers, we're drowning in debt, Falling waters of hope, we cannot forget.

But you don't know what it means, And you don't want to know the scenes, "We're drowning, but we're singing too," And you love us, any who.

We could ask for more, but hesitate, Like a whore thinking of what is fate, Is darkness less or is it more? We don't ask, and we never implore.

We ride our bicycles, through a degenerated society, Just youth, striving for our own sobriety, And it's nice, oh so nice, just to breathe, To be together, and to believe.

[eprobles]

SEVERE TREE SCREAMS EMOTIONS HIGH

TIME, is it time? to love someday? I will be there.

And only love will bring back love someday.  

Crying.  I should win back love again.

I will be there.

Fight.  And fight.  To be here how love breaks walls again.

And we go again.  

Wild souls fight and sing sun in love in flight -- and learn to late :  here we go again grieved it on its way, to start once again:  i love you.

baby, try.  Trust in my heart. How i compare you to summer's day how temperate and a star how i love your perfect price and if you give me a chance i still love you

:: 04.09.2023 ::

[eprobles]

ETERNAL ECHOES

ETERNAL ECHOES

I

Toward dark blue skies, endlessly, Where topaz seas shimmer bright, In your evening, blooms ecstasy - The lilies, pills of pure delight.

In our age where plants must toil, Lilies drink blue distaste divine, From your religious prose, they'll coil, Fleur-de-lys, for bards to twine.

Lilies, lilies, none in view, Yet in your verse, sleeves of sin, Soft-footed women, pure as dew, White flowers shiver within.

Always, dear man, when you bathe, Your shirt with yellow 'neath your arm, Swelling in the breeze, and wave, Above forget-me-nots, the harm.

Love comes to you in lilac's guise, Wild violets too, nymphs' delight, Sugary spittle on lips, belies, Dark passions on a moonlit night.

II

Oh, Poets, imagine you possessed Roses, crimson Roses, blooming bright, Adorning laurel stems, at their best, With thousand octaves swelling in delight!

If Banville could make them snow, Tainted red, swirling, in a frenzy, Blackening the eyes of those who show Ill-disposed interpretations, not friendly!

In your forests and in meadows so calm, Oh, peaceful photographers, Flora thrives, Decanters' stoppers no different in charm, Than varied veggies with cross-grained lives!

Phthisical and absurd, they seem to be, Navigated by basset-hounds at dusk, After frightening drawings we see, Of lotuses or sunflowers blue, so brusque!

Pink prints and holy pictures we behold, For young girls making their communion, Asoka Ode agrees with Loretto's window old, Heavy vivid butterflies dung on daisy's union!

Old greenery and galloons, fancy-flowers, Vegetable biscuits of yore's drawing-rooms, For cockchafers, not rattlesnakes, like powers, Pulling vegetable dolls with colors, like in cartoons!

Grandville would have put them round the margins, To suck in colors from ill-natured stars, Drooling from your shepherd's pipes, in wondrous fashions, Creating priceless glucoses, like fried eggs in hold hats, so bizarre!

Lilies, Asokas, lilacs, and roses, in a pile, Inspirations for poets, like me, all the while!

III

white Hunter, running sockingless Across the panic Pastures, Can you not, ought you not To know your botany a little? I'm afraid you'd make succeed, To russet Crickets, Cantharides, And Rio golds to blues of Rhine, - In short, to Norways, Floridas: But, My dear Chap, Art does not consist now, - it's the truth, - in allowing To the astonishing Eucalyptus boa-constrictors a hexameter long; There now!... As if Mahogany Served only, even in our Guianas, As helter-skelters for monkeys, Among the heavy vertigo of the lianas! - In short, is a Flower, Rosemary Or Lily, dead or alive, worth The excrement of one sea-bird? Is it worth a solitary candle-drip? - And I mean what I say! You, even sitting over there, in a Bamboo hut, - with the shutters Closed, and brown Persian rugs for hangings, - You would scrawl blossoms Worthy of extravagant Oise!... - Poet ! these are reasonnings No less absurd than arrogant!...

IV

Speak not of pampas in the spring, Black with terrible revolts and strife, But of tobacco, cotton trees that sing, Exotic harvests, a fruitful life.

Say, white face, tanned by Phoebus' rays, How many dollars Pedro Velasquez earns, Of Habana, a city that displays, Excrement covering Sorrento's seas in turns.

Where swans go in thousands to roam, Let your lines campaign, oh poet bold, For clearing mangrove swamps, a home To pools and water-snakes so cold.

Your quatrain plunges into bloody thickets, And returns with subjects great and grand, White sugar, bronchial lozenges, and rubbers, tickets To the land of plenty, a fruitful land.

Tell us, oh hunter, if the yellownesses Of snow peaks near the tropics, hide Insects that lay many eggs or microscopic lichens, And scented madder plants, two or three, provide.

Nature in trousers may cause them to bloom, For our armies, strong and brave, On the outskirts of the Sleeping Wood, assume Flowers, with snouts, drip golden pomades on buffaloes' cave.

Find in wild meadows, where the bluegrass shivers, The silver of downy growths, Calyxes full of fiery eggs, livers Cooking among the essential oils.

Find downy thistles whose wool, Ten asses with glaring eyes, labor to spin, Flowers that are chairs, a beautiful tool, And gem-like tonsils close to pale ovaries within.

Find flowers in coal-black seams, Almost like stones, so marvelous and bright, Close to their hard pale ovaries in dreams, Bearing gemlike tonsils, shining in light.

Serve us, oh stuffer, on a vermilion plate, Stews of syrupy lilies, a delicacy divine, To corrode our German-silver spoons, a fate Worthy of kings, in a color so fine.

:: 03.06.2023 ::

[eprobles]

Space artist: eprobles