Pries Poems

As the Last Petal Falls

as the last petal falls
onto silk sheets
as the candles bloom
with electricity
as she shakes loose
her virginity
and beds her groom
as his blood drains
from his countenance
doomed
to her eyes
her breasts
her hips
time and time
again
as the last petal falls
from her pedestal
pink roses
of her youth
his eyes still melt
his heart beats fast
his smile upticks
until
death consummates
and
pries
the dynamic duo apart
the shadow of roses falling
she’s beyond the pale
in the pink
of blossoms beyond descriptive scent
depth
walking as if on rose water
waiting
seems but a moment for her
seems like forever to him
until forever after again

The Fanch-Interior with Women

Standing on my head
looking up at the trees
and the sparkling sky

When it’s dark I don’t see
the ship float by nor
the tsunami sea

Upside-down women
on either side
of cotton candy eventide

When the light’s bright
palms and ferns come to life
tickling my soles

and I am able 
to rearrange the houseplants
with my toes

How much harder it is
to apprehend the tossed high heels
and the mute parrot

high and higher
almost in flight
but I catch them

as I carry on
with lethargic lids
that never seam

The minute I close them
my baby-faced muse
pries them open
 
with a seam ripper
and I flick the light back on
and then to annoy her

I hit the switch
so I can view the “Fanch”
in the Hitchcock hour

Truly, I am reclining
and in turn propelling 
out of my chair

It’s been a long day
I won’t bore you with its tales
I’ll just point you to

the simple fact
that artwork looks different
hanging

upside-down
or inside-out
or Cubist

Kent

  Come to live in Kent
  A lovely place to be.
  Close to the continent.
  Next the lovely sea.

  The garden of England
  growing houses fast.
  Come to see what's planned,
  while the stocks last.

  Houses on the down ridge
  what a lovely view.
  Not for the average,
  only for the few.

  Live next a reservoir?
  Where's the water gone?
  But here's our saviour,
  bottled waters on.

  Travel easy everywhere
  on congested roads.
  enjoy a slow journey. Beware
  those heavy loads.

  To the coast, enjoy a swim
  in the brown smelly sea.
  Only fools would jump right in.
  Consequences not foresee.

  Woods and fields all gone.
  Sanitised in parks.
  Streams no longer flow along,
  now underground in the dark.

  Come visit us before too late.
  See our beauteous countryside.
  Your senses still it will elate.
  Soon downhill we will slide.

     Ted Pries  August 2022

Demons

Look in the mirror and what do you see?
A little grinning demon staring back at me.
Raining destruction in their wake,
Put it away for all of our sakes.

Smile for the camera, who are you now?
A fake person who can’t smile anyhow.
Flipping a switch, being born anew,
Fresher than the spring morning dew.

Screams shatter the glass,
Break my eyeglass
At the sight of my face,
The thing I’ve come to embrace.

It stifles my cries,
It always pries
My life out my hands
With all it’s demands

Purified

Take me away God to dig up sod and have a talk how I’m so odd/
Among other things I’m like a Dodge missing a tie-rod /
These words strung are life’s pod for I or a prop to fly over top of any slop/
So with these I will never mope only float and soak in my own rhyme cloak/
Surely isn’t a scapegoat you can escape hope and expect a fine coat/
Plenty of clot to try and stop my shot as I am in a trot while carrying a lot/
Burying thought I look to God for our treasure spot/
I pleasure a lot like a distraught tater tot plotting on the worlds last ketchup drop/
Thought aside brought ready for this ride and be in stride for life’s show and slide/
Never again slip to a horrific dive left deprived but I’m revived to be energetic and re-energized/
It’s all derived from what’s been inscribed for my eyes/
I no longer tell lies to become more pure and purified /
As he pries and amplifies any spiritual ties an old ritual dies /
It’ll be tough times left behind refined with God he rectifies

The Moon Knows Huitain

The Moon knows never to gossip,
keeping secrets close to the heart;
Buttoned up tight whispers don’t slip,
nothing pries what’s sacred apart;
Never one with an aimless dart,
brazen wishes know where he stands;
A loaded plan cannot outsmart 
credence the cosmos understands.

God Pries Into Babies' Cries

When a baby cries

With tears from its eyes

Peace of the Lord dies,

Worry deeply the Skies,

To cajole, Divinity tries,

They forward many whys?

By saying it is fully unwise,

And all must pay the price

God wants peaceful ties,

Expects fairies to supervise,

Unless its consternation dies,

Objections, God will raise,

The state, Angels to appraise,

And to God, soon apprise,

He will only then praise

Or else prefer to criticize!

What Happens In the Mustang Stays In the Mustang

I want to write up your adventures Ashleigh said.
Sometime later, I told her, after I am dead.
She did not understand and took an unauthorized selfie with me.
This made me mad, sol I took a dump on her beloved willow tree.

I am the king, so no one should take a photo without permission.
I drive a red 1969 convertible Mustang with a V-8 transmission.
Barney, my sidekick has always ridden shotgun.
We are adventurers, and we always have fun.

Where have you been today? Ashley often pries.
I give Barney a look, then I tell her incredible lies.
I am royalty; it is no one’s business where I have been.
Sometimes we dogs live a day full of sin!

Yesterday we chased seagulls up and down a beach.
Some lady gave us iced tea. Yuck! It was syrupy and peach!
Whatever we do is no one else’s business I tell my pal.
Barney agrees happily with a you-got-that-right bow wow.

The Unnoticed Rose

An Unnoticed Rose

It sits outside a window
Between the lanes of late
A price it pays each day 
Between the thorns of fate
It’s glance is gone unnoticed
Between the days of din
It’s cost of  bare to beauty
Between the ways of win
It’s care for color are costly
Between the hints of hue
It’s pass of pain are mostly
Between the now and new

It’s in the same of shelter
Between the brings of care
It’s bloom of soon are after
Between the spring of rare
It’s leave of listen are richly
Between the vain and real
It’s folds within the wonder
Between the rain and peal
It’s reason the brief eternal
Between the eyes of knew
It’s tell of time maternal
Between the pries of few

Bumblebee Honey

I've never seen a Bumblebee
Lose a fight with a Snapdragon
No, not ever!
Each time they meet
That painted prince of prowess
Pries open the dragon's jaws
And deftly crawls inside
To win the blooming battle
To steal the coveted prize. 

In fact, no brazen bromide
Can subdue that cheery bumbler
That fuzzy buzzing, dragon busting
Blossom bobbing, flower trusting
Petal popping, nectar bringing
Black and yellow, striped stinging
Pollinating, sugar sipping
Salivating, skinny dipping
fellow.

True North

Where do we go when it’s all said and done?
Someday I’ll meet you 
somewhere beyond the stars; 
It doesn’t matter how many times we look away, 
In a hundred lifetimes you are with me 
in a place there are no words for;
You poured faith into an empty glass; 
What can transcend things like mortality and time? 
 Nothing, but a gift like that;
Where do we go when it’s all said and done?
Someday I’ll see you 
in a world yet to be discovered;
It doesn’t matter how many times 
or what pries us apart;
In a hundred ways even if 
I have yet to see the reason, you saved me;
What can transcend the direction of True North? Nothing;
We have always been 
and always will be together;
Someday we will be gone, 
but we will leave behind a night sky 
painted with stars.

Blood Moon Kryptonite

Love is sight of the rising blood-
  m  o  o  n   kryptonite.  AS 
Crumbling words of lies dying 
  clashing blades as knives 
through the dark -- the Soul
pries wide my mouth with spears
 filling my pounding heart with
rejoice as scorn and defying
peace wrestle GIANT FEAR
into all opposing darkness!

:: 03-12-2019 ::
E.P. Robles (c) 2019

A Can of Worms Bereft of Any Worth

Fact and fiction, abundance and paucity
Vie for space in a world driven insane
Conflating rural life and life in the city
Where dealing, hustling and stealing grow inane

In minds and lives
Caught up in a conundrum
Stabbed and clubbed by knives
To the beat and feet of the drum

Heard in the middle of a night
So dark a stark sentiment
Flies in dyes chosen by the knight
Riding a high horse to the detriment

Of society whose propriety
Draws doubt when ludicrous lips twist and tout
The truth, the naked truth in a variety
Sometimes so convoluted and distorted doubt

Arises at sunup
In the morning when snoring
Faces shake cobwebs to drink from a cup
Teeming with tears at the sound of mourning

Wailing without a sound
Sighing without weeping
Kneeling on surfaces out of bound
As spies make a statement so sweeping

Truth cries
Facts flee from the face of the Earth
As an invisible hand pries
Open a can of worm bereft of any worth.

Light To Dark

What once was blinding light
 slips slowly into the covered night
the mighty burn of the sun
 slips behind each cloud hung
in the failing blueness of the sky
 to gray and darken as it pries
a wedge, a deepening abyss
 biding farewell, to the sun's warm kiss.
When all was clear and visibly seen
 we were blinded by the reflected gleam
and as the dark drew closer and nigh
 life slipped away in a breath's last sigh.

I'M Cynical of Polly

She walks with pride,
Maybe she thinks of herself as queen.
It can happen with time,
Her mind plays a wicked game.
But nonetheless, I’m cynical of Polly.

With every click and flash she gives a sly smile,
Doesn’t anyone else notice?
Am I getting a wrong picture?
But then she winks at me.
She makes me mad, I’m cynical of Polly.

As the press pries prudently into Polly,
She rejects their questions with her steely eyes.
Head held so high, she can’t see it,
People cry in despair, doesn’t reach her ear.
She just doesn’t care, oh, I’m cynical of Polly!

All she knows is her precious votes,
Counting them on her fingers “One, two, three….”
Flings her purse, strides down the stairs,
Her heels ready to crush some souls.
She is evil in disguise. Damn right, I’m cynical of Polly.

The rich bow down to her, she has that aura,
I despise her but I envy her.
To have that power, I would go mad too,
Won’t I just do anything to be in her shoes?
She dazzles me yet I’m cynical of Polly.

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