His Voice or Mine

With his kiss upon your lips
As you  close you eyes
Do you think about the life we had
Or the new life he provides
Can his hands carress your body
The ways that mine once did
Will his touch give you pleasure
Like only I could give
Can you see true love in his eye's
Like the love I had for you
Will your heart beat just as fast
As when I walked in the room
Does the memory of him fill your day
Is our memory lost in time
And as you listen to these loving words

Do you hear his voice or mine


Carl J. Roberts.         March 2013

Losing control
sucking in sin
in amber shot glasses, beer glasses,
goblets red like blood and twinkling in the fire

I try not to mind it
I love him and he just turned twenty one
the age of no more
I try, I promise I do

But I watch a woman drink herself to death
Every
Single
Night
And it occurs to me that I cannot see
the difference
between out of control and completely sober

It has gotten to the point where I see horrible fires at beer commercials, lighting them all up, eating away their sin in explosive technicolor
And I want to hurt the woman in the Spirits Store
even if she has done nothing wrong
but sell my mother the evil
No, it's not actually evil,
but still, I want to choke the life out of her body and keep squeezing
until I feel vertebrae pop
red grapes in my hands
will you partake of that wine?
The pleasure is still there, a kick of adrenaline.
Will you partake?
My sin, though worse than yours, is still sin
Waste not, my friends
suck it in like rats
and I will fall upon you like an avenging angel, reaping

But then I realize
that's crazy.
That's unreasonable.
I should just go to bed.

Wherever Here Is

When you ask wherever here is
It's the place you are right now
The place where someone should be
When you need them to be around

Sometimes wherever here is
Is a place where you're alone
Wherever here is may just be
A place you dont want known

Wherever here is could be
Where you're needed most
Sometimes wherever here is
Means someone else is lost

Wherever here is can be
A place thats seldom found
Dont ask wherever here is
Wherever is all around

Carl Joseph Roberts

Mother.. oh mother ocean
enraptured waves rise to your natural beauty’s crest,
beckoning with such gravity;
her salience seeps
aneath her saline tides’ tameless undertow

All at sea..
hidden just beneath her surface swell ;
savored breaths beheld within enchanting frothy foam
Drifting with the tug of her tidal pull,
lulled surges ebbing allure…

All at sea..
Mesmerized pulses magnetically drawn,
from within all rivers’ flowing currents ;
acoustic rushes enfold the rhythm and the sea’s song
Someday the essence of her cleansing waves’ baptism,
shall drown the torn under the intimacy of firmament

I’m all at sea..
Bathe myself (cleanse my imperfections)
in earth mother’s wishing well
surrendering to the essence of her ardent pull
drifting back to where it started...


Harlon Rivers

That One Lost Love

Have you ever had that one lost love
That you remember from your past
The one who seemed to get away
But you wish you could have back

The timing wasn't perfect
For the love you had back then
Their broken heart not ready
So now they call you friend

Every now and then you speak
You hear the story of their life
They tell you that they fell in love
You feel an emptyness inside

You wish that they had felt this way
For the love you shared back then
For how can they have fell in love
When you have this love within

The future holds a different path
Then what we think we know
You cannot change the way they feel
You must let the friendship grow

So no matter what the future holds
Just know that love is true
For this friendship with a broken heart
Is the friendship I have with you

Carl Joseph Roberts

.






Raking the tops
of the wind swept wheat
with the tips of my fingers,
gliding freely without pause,
I was a ghost to my own shadow;
a being, living, with no moral law.

The sun would burn away
my familiar friend from another time,
popping in and dissolving out,
now remaining, never mine.

This intangible energy
that now hovers above Earthen loam,
wanders without proof of purpose,
searching, demanding, always deceiving
those who walk alone.

My hair swings but no breeze.
My heart remembers but doesn't beat.
My head thought of my knees,
when my pride did compete
for the love from a girl for this deadbeat.

I'm stuck, yet alive;
alive as one might be to suffer.
The unholy grain through the vastness,
combs the air and presents,
itself as an evil muse to humans,
and my impending ever after.

10 years ago,
through a flash of most brilliant light,
I died, I appeared, I hovered
aimlessly haunting nothing now,
….though I might.

I can't find myself,
for my eyes cease to see;
the eyes aren't even mine,
a vexing landscape now empty and daunting.

Another flash consumes my sanity,
to throw me back to that summer date;
a burning, biting heat starts to arrest me
when a gurgling voice shows its hate,
and slaps, what a slap,
this curiously hurting man who, left unhappy!

Circular faces appear
to have welcomed my presence,
but my legs numbing, unbecoming,
haven't worked in my absence,
just as an elder figure
in my wake sheds a tear.

This was much more frightening
than swimming in the grain,
sensing my shadow's departure in vain.
A loud beep and my hand squeezed,
assured me reality was coming back in
as I heard the whispering voice say,
"Jessica was found headless in the grain."

A cop's uniform had accompanied
this circus of angels and devils,
opening my weary lids to a wash of white;
that same voice whispering again, saying,
"That bastard son of yours killed our rebel!"







-Mark Lach