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phil roberts

My favourite city
The easiest place in the world to make friends
Or to get in a fight
You don't need to ask what people think
They'll let you know quick enough
They have the darkest sly sense of humour
Which can become hilarious and endearing
Once you get the joke
And if you don't get it
Tough shit
The symbol of Manchester is a bee
A hardworking and peaceful creature
But if you upset the bee
God help you
The whole hive will come for you
And I love the place

                              By Phil Roberts


I admit i'm insanely inlove
I invest so much effort
Just to be with you
But your love so dimmed
Like a busted bulb

I exaggerate things i've never been done
And i'm end up hallucinating
I becoming hysterical
For falling deeply inlove

Sometimes i've lost my senses
I forgot to love my self
More than i love you
This love brought me to agony
And i'm starting digging my grave

Nateive Son

no debt

You're a star: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=15DPg09FsR4

I remember the chalky powder taste in my mouth, my taste buds shrunk as I forced it down my throat with vodka to wash it away, I can almost taste it now, I can almost feel the silence, my floors stained red, my heart cannot break without any blood.

Too many miles to wander through with thumbtacks in my shoes. Solid earth gives way to rot, a cancer in the soil.                  
                a bale of sticks (those ashen tips),
                                too frequently replaced.

   another brick in painted stacks            
     another jester in the stocks                  
      another bastard in the sheets
"How's Saturday?" You hear them plead, "A party's fine (protect the seed)". Reject this need to infect our breed.                      
and suspect the cautions one might heed,
    before leaning on this quivering bridge.                                                                  ­        
   rope resigned to snap and twist            
    giving way to flailing nooses                  
     hangman's collar fits me nicely
           -"Don't look back, I won't ask twice".

Crushed & mixed - added spice
  Model student - expect no less
  Worn 3-piece, "Well... try it on"
   Good afternoon - it's goodbye
    Another thunder strike?! Die

Are the words I used right?
I think there are better things to write
It's making me think all night
Leaving it blank, I really might?

no sense
Callum Ray Foster

The mountain of rock
it sat in the lake,
asking the waters
around it to make
no movements too vast
nor tremble or quake.
The stillness is all we'd need.

The mountain of rock
it sat by the grass,
asking the pastures
around it to clasp
falling souvenirs
that Autumn lets pass.
The moment is all we'll have.

The mountain of rock
leaned tall in the clouds,
asking the heavens
if it could allow
an audience with
the moonlight that prowls.
Your presence is all I want.

The Luna white disc
patrolling the sky,
gazed down at the rock face
catching it's eye,
waxing a beam
and waning goodbye.
Your great but it's not meant to be.

Your nice but it's not meant to be.


Her flesh
was his canvas
his hands spread over her body
like paint saturating its canvas
emotions surfaced
like oil paintings
her body shivered dying for his strokes
long throws of passion
sliding across her body like
satin brushes over skin

Jennifer Emerson

The stiff, sleek material of my pencil skirt
Sticks to me like skin;
I walk like a babe,
A chick,
Only just taking my first stumbling steps.
But my chest is heavy,
Sagging, starving,
New and full and
I didn’t even notice
Until they looked.
Satin, skin, silicone,
I have been taught not
To tell the difference.
Brain, breasts, back bone.
My oversized heels,
I drag along with me;
Nowhere to ask for directions.
Solitary, solo.
Like an abandoned lamb
I am afraid,
I shrink back, hunched, head bowed
Against the wind and the rain that
Lash and numb my skin.
Shrunken, yet constantly growing,
Awkward in my new body.
But I keep going,
I go,
Because I know that
Something warm awaits.

Silicone to silk;
Skin to silk;
Silk to skin.

I flee in fear as the enemy grows near,
I stumbled as a bullet passes my ear.
I stand, I turn running away with a tear,
I fall down as if I was hit with a spear.

I took on this war a long time ago,
With myself I had hoped that I could grow.
I lay down beginning to rot away,
The hours passed as I begin to fade.

I wake up and I see these wounds of mine,
Glowing as if I was filled with such life.
Slowly my wounds begin to heal and fade,
And such I begin to fight another day.

Never did I knew that that day drew near,
As I remember those days fleeing in fear.
Now I stand and fight my demonic night,
And I shall die with my tears shining bright.

I lay in this self-made grave from a self-made war,
Yet again my heart glows as if being revived.
I faced myself and gave myself a scar.
Yet it was healed by an angel from afar.

Inspiration from a post I saw about the phenomenon of the "Angel's Glow" during the American Civil War. I have applied it to my battle with myself.
midnight blue

you and i are two different souls,
living on two separate worlds
that collided once
just to be parted
and never meet again.

Ellie Chestnut

These bones have been chipped,
  and stepped on,
       and worn down.
   These hands are now
      cold and unwelcoming.
Smoking has made my
    lungs burn and my voice sharp.
My feet are always dirty,
   my ankles make me fall,
      my shins are dented from
   fast walking and grocery carts.
And don't even get me started
    about my head.
But this body,
      worn and broken and weak  
   as it may seem,
             This body
will carry me
     further than
         you can fathom.

Title inspired by the song Ginger by The Front Bottoms
Kaye Catipay

We are scarred from wounded friendships
Thinking that together we can heal each other
Didn't know that healing didn't do anything
But hurting each other more

What's worse than writing this drunk
Trying to get away with what will come
Our story powers this poem
My story powers this poem

I think what's better now is to stop this
Let's go back to our original besties
This is not working out, my friend
Can I say this is the end?

Submitted to hello poetry

Would you believe me,
If I told you,
That I'm in love with a ghost?
She who knocks on
pulsating, red doors,
But absent when I open them?

Yes, I'm deeply in love,
With an ethereal figure
who leaves her front door ajar,
And puts a huge "Welcome!" sign there,
But expects no guests.

Yes, she's a gentle specter,
Whose intangible fingers
fondle my cheeks,
But when I reach out
to her, all my fingers grasp is thin air.
And I, left, derided with vanity.

A side note to someone I love.
Debbie Taylor

will create
of us all

L Seagull

It is
And it's changing
The wind into summer shower
Into mushrooms and birds mouth
From river to the sewer
It is and it's changing
From dark to light to dim with
Speckles of sun born by the
Mirror in you childlike hand
You are catching dust bunnies
Sneezing and laughing
And the dirt could be followed by magic
And the kiss isn't greased by the notion
Of sin and the sin is only a word from the book
Death and insanity
Are frightening and profound
Your world is built from
No buts but ands
And they flow into peace
Just as well as the film of oil
On the dirty puddle
Astonishes you with
An iridescent rainbow
Duality is born by fear
You split and separate so
Caught up in the survival game
To keep that face and partake
Of wealth and fame
Empty is locked in the dungeon
And the words interlock
In plain patterns
Yet alive as they produce sounds
And the smell of tangerines
On a tree by the coast of Sicily
Reminds you of the day
When you could still enjoy
The warmth of sun
It absorbed into its juicy flesh
And there's no need to run
No need to stay
No need to cut off the ties
When life offers you more
And the heat and cold are feelings
That gets names as they replace each other
As they flow unstoppable
Dripping reactions
Burning like acid and smooth like milk
All in one glass
And when you have no thoughts
Ask questions
And when you feel the pain
Stay present and consider humanity


I missed death by a split second
my hands had no time to sweat
heart no time to race
no goodbyes would have been said
my legs began shaking uncontrollably
I fell to my knees thanking God for his mercy because i almost didn't get a chance to meet him

Thou say thou love me.
Knowing no reasons as to why.
I say how can this be when
you know not I.

I am but words on a screen.
Some of love, some of pain.
Thou knows  not my thunder
nor my deluge of rain.

I sought thee not to love thee,
but only to love thee...agape.
Not into thy heart spark a flame.
That would bring thee the fire of shame.

Love me but romance me not.
For my heart is amnesiac...
That thing it has forgot.

Lexander J

Eyes of wonder can you feel my glare
what I thought was dead now I feel I care,
forever on the verge of the downward abyss
stroking my demons and giving Satan a kiss

for here are we under a sky of brilliant white
oblivious to the signs surely in our sight
for yet I wonder again, what really is love -
yes, it's in my ignorance I've not yet understood

do I feel sorrow, compassion, remorse?
Hell I should but sadly my heart is a beating corpse -
no longer do I care about others and their irreverent needs
instead inside I hide and plant my cunning seeds

ready to taint, to take, to fabricate and humiliate
they all say I'm good but I can't help but manipulate
not only the minds of others, but of myself
my sanity is slowly dying along with my health

now I gaze to the sky above, and the little fly buzzing around
I listen as nature refuses to make a sound -

oh give me a sign Lord, non existent but I want to believe
tell me all is a lie that I apparently perceive.

Ms Poetess

I am a captive inside my own head
endlessly tortured
with different versions of the past and future.
As a result, there is no present.

Ratula Halder

Conch shells in unison
Upholding enchantment and prayer
The west beckons the setting Sun
Trails of a crimson hue, a sight so rare
A whiff of incense, soaring high
The trees swing, where the sweet winds lie
Westward, the birds make a merry flight
Out of time, at the cease of light

Steve Page

Blessed are the frustrated
For they know this life is defective
Blessed are those who resist
For they know that they await a liberator
Blessed are the impatient
For they have their sights on freedom
Blessed are those who live in hope
For they will not be thwarted
Blessed are the dissatisfied
For they know this is but a pale reflection
And blessed are those who
Despite the fight on their hands
Despite the yearning on their lips
Despite the ache in their hearts
They reach out in love
They speak in peace
They bring hope to others
For with such as these God's Spirit rests.

After a week of grief it's been great to meet and eat with friends.  Here's to you.
1 Corinthians 13:12
12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

See Romans 8:19-23
19 For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed.
20 For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope
21 that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.
22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.
23 Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies.
only lovepoetry

To: Gods  
From: Only Love Poetry
Subject: Manchester Commencement

dedicated to Nat Lipstadt, my better half,
who whispers when life whipsaws beyond belief,
there still will always be,
a new sun come,
a day newly needy for an only love poem

commencement, a lovely,
so human contra-dictional term,
to begin, to end, the meaning meant  
in the ear of beholder,
though this year,
the meaning perhaps, is
in the heart of the true believer

a perfect end of May day, fully unofficially summer
but for the brisk crisp spring sweater weather temp,
informing that the official calendar heated demarcation day,
yet a full month ahead,  
but the news reminding that neither man or nature  
don't necessarily respect
foolish man made conventions of any kind

once again, return to the isle of shelter,
lawns lush, the waves speaking in wave lapping, watery tongues,
which suddenly all humans comprehend,
the sky, a milky blue cappuccino and
I struggle desiring to disbelieve that the
almost summer holiness communing has begun with a  
bloody pointless Manchester commencement

the external perfection clashes with the internal revilation,
knowing anger is unprofitable, understanding and resolving
not even close to possible, the waste of why and what for's

thrice, already sent you missive missiles,
that acknowdge did not hit the target,
you must be the the hard hearted pharaoh
who won't let my people, any people, go,
till all of us hold our eldest child in our arms, dead

the is no point in anger, the consoling of souls,
disregarding the vanity of revenge calls,
the Einsteinian repeating insanity of praying each of us,
to different gods to do what we stupidly call the right thing,
expecting different outcomes

so what's the why and the wherefore for just another poem?

to prepare the soul, keep yourself at the steady,
for the next one, never complacent, staying unready,
commencements are either endings or beginning
who can tell for sure, sometimes a bit of both

and in a poem, composed only of love,
written with solemn tears decorating the screen,
finger slipping on the warm sad wet,
a kind of scar tissue, a healing, but differentiated,
returning similar, but forever changed, different,
is still something human I can true believe in, no gods necessary

5/27/17 2:21pm


The stars are out tonight
I gaze at them from my yard
My hair spread out on the grass
My mind races
Focused on how far away these glittering lights are
An entire universe is out there
But it was not made for me
I am small
But can a light still burn inside me?
Especially if I feel so dark?
I like to think we are all stars
And astronomers at the same time
Searching for our place in the galaxy
Will you be a star with me?
With you I no longer feel dimmed
Can you let me illuminate your world?
I’ve been pulled in by your gravity
There’s no way to leave your orbit now
Even if I wanted to


Just like your handwriting
You’re a mess
You hide yourself
By cunning words
Trying to disguise how you really feel
But that’s okay
I see right through the facade
You are the type of guy
Who sometimes cries alone
In his room
The type of guy
Who teases and messes with girls
Making them feel awful
Because it’s hard to express how you really feel
You are the type of guy
Who never shows his inner thoughts
You don’t believe anyone will understand
The chaos in your mind
But that’s okay
I see right through it
I am the type of girl
Who’s willing to put
My heart out there
You are the type of guy
Who never sees
A girl like me.


One year later and l have learnt that a light  house will survive everything and will never hold a grudge against the waves.
So let me lead you home.
Let me direct your path. Allow me to be your safety despite the destruction you have become my love.
Let me be something.


Sleep eludes this stricken soul
as prettily wrapped death,
escapes the weary

Nay, for lying so still as one lacking breath,
searching for darkened hearts to fill the depths,

Void, as the empty ticking of stopped clocks,
hour glasses with nary a care for counting,
having traded sand for eternity

The search of the weary for unattainable rest and reassurance of eternity's kiss,
waits with slit smiles for the restless damned.

Spenser Bennett

I'd burn my lips to taste the sun
Empty Sierra, are you listening
Diamond blood, my Mesozoic love
Take me higher, I'm not done blistering

There is a flower of fire to swallow
And it blossoms within my soul
Whiskey daisy, my holy hazy sin
Hell will never hold me
But it holds me, so

Can you taste the sun
From that mile high hill
Can you chase this one
And feel so empty still

The sad thing is
That if you're the sun
Then you're alone
In darkness, and so close
In this moment

There is a flower of fire to swallow
It blossoms within my soul
Whiskey daisy, my holy blazing sins
Hell will never hold me
But it holds me, so

I won't be held
But I will behold
I won't be told
But I will live to tell

I'd burn my heart to know the sun
To ashes, I'd know what it is to be awake
Diamond blood, my Mesozoic love
I thought I'd know you then, (don't you call it fate)

Won't you hold me, slow
Burn my eyes, and let me know
Empty Sierra, why you don't glow
Anymore, anymore, no


According to the Euclid's first axiom of Geometry,
It is the existence of the line between you and I.

Telephone is the only access for lovers apart.
Euclid's first axiom of Geometry states that for any two distinct points on a plane, there exists a unique straight line.

Would you still love me if I told you that
I watch horror movies all night long
with no sound except the ticking of my bedside clock
or that when brushing my teeth I try to sing the
Star Spangled Banner in an Aussie accent
or that I cry at all the commercials about dogs
that need to be adopted even the hairless ones
or that I think french kissing is messy

What if I told you that sometimes I leave left over
pizza in the refrigerator
because I'm too lazy to throw it away
and I never wear matching socks

Would you run for the hills
if I told you that I only eat the red and green M&M's
and toss the others away

Would you still love me
if I told you that I was a closet poet
and only wrote when the moon was full
or that I ate my room mates last chocolate doughnut
about an hour ago

I was just wondering...

There are days you wish so much
You wish for better days
And friendlier faces

You wish for less pain
Less sadness

But let me tell you this...
There isn't always happiness
There isn't always sadness

You can think there is no one there
But there is always one watching over you

Pain will feed on our souls
Making us feel useless and worthless

Love will guide you through difficult times
or tear you down into depression

One person can make or break who you are
But that doesn't mean they define you.

Bullying can build you up or down
It's up to you to define your future

Though you'll never know how much a smile means
What a difference it bring to the world

But you'll never know me
And how I can be

You'll never catch me crying
You'll only hear me lying,
saying I'm fine

You'll always see me smiling and laughing
But deep down inside... I'm broken apart

I'll always say "It's okay"
But it's not always okay
But silent I'll stay

I'm always in need of company
But I never ask it

I'm an introvert, my thoughts hidden...

My words won't always be heard
Though I always have hurt

You'll never know me...


They say I'm a jack of all trades,
but I am only a master of few
They say I'm a catch
because I like what they like
and I'm low maintenance
I don't consume their time
and I'm decent to look at
and I do all the other things
a good woman is supposed to do
'what else could a man want?'
'damn near perfect'
'the mind of a man
with the softness of a female'
and I tell them I'm not that great
and they laugh
they say I'm fishing for compliments
they say I'm crazy or being modest
and I promise them they will see
and all that crap
that makes me so damned appealing
won't keep them interested
a breath of fresh air
only lasts as long as a breath
and then they're looking
for something fresh again
and they never believe me
because really, none of them know me
and they all try,
a couple of them harder than others
but it all ends the same
and I never say 'told ya so'
when they're leaving
cause really, whats the point?
there's no tricks up my sleeve
I always promise what you see
is what you get
and for most, after the glitter is gone
what they get, is never enough
and I wish to God it was
cause it sure would be nice
to be wrong for once.

just a flow of thoughts

I hope these words may find,
Some happy part of your mind,
May they extend your lips to your ears,
May you feel my warm, happy tears,
As I go to bed thinking of you,
Thank my stars, a dream came true


Sitting all day, I stare blankly, as I become
unaware of things happening around me.
I say "I'm fine" when people ask me, but deep inside, I am
completely devoid of emotions and feelings.
I ask "What is life?" hoping for an answer, as I
do everything that I can to
end everything that I had started.

Something is hidden.

my parents taught me
to remain silent
when i have nothing nice
to say

they said
people will not
assume i'm a mute
if i keep quiet

so now
when something requires a nasty reply
i keep silent and
raise my middle finger


Downside up
In relevant confusion
Awakening in a slanted dream
It seems
Everything rhymes with orange
And you love me
More times than I love you

Broken mirrors
Are nothing but good luck
Four leaf clovers
And run for the hills
It seems
Everything rhymes with month
And I love you
Just not in that way
More than me

The moon's intense heat
Lights the day
While rain falls
From the grass to the clouds
It seems
Everything rhymes with wolf
And when I rejected you
A little

Spiders are mans best friend
Children sleep with darkeners
In fear of light
And fairytale princesses
It seems
Everything rhymes with purple
And I feel sorry
That you love me
Leaving me with a COLON, SLASH

The stars are my only enemy
Crying at night brings me joy
And I cut myself
Because I desperately want to live
It seems
Everything rhymes with rhythm
And it's my fault

Sleeping into reality
Falling out of mirages
With a
Look on my face
It seems
Nothing rhymes with orange.

If your too lazy to figure it out lol:

I.    Scared
This is real for me
This is love to me.
And some days I’m scared out of my mind at how genuine this is.
Nothing has ever felt this authentic to me, other than maybe pain.
This is new to me.
You read the stories and love is this all powerful magic and its damn powerful and it scares me. It scares me that this thing, this emotion, may rip my heart of my chest and leave it in a million little pieces.
I’m not scared of you,
I’m not scared of us,
I’m not scared of a fight,
I’m not scared of love,
I’m not scared of forever,
And I’m definitely not scared of heartbreak, my heart has known its scars and I’m not afraid of gathering more.
I’m scared of an ending that’s everything but happy,
I’m scared of the strength of my feelings,
scared I’ll let you down,
scared I’ll hurt you,
scared of anything and everything, all my demons coming out to play and every inch of me is screaming run.
I’m scared that I’ll run,
I’m scared of losing you,
of not being enough.
But as scared as I am, I’m willing to fight for this.
For us.
For our forever
Our happy ever after.

II.    Two
Two souls, more different yet similar than most, met while on their own paths.
They continued together for a while, like many others.
A poet and a soldier, each claiming their own hell, living in their own darkness.
Finding comfort in each other’s arms.

III.    Love
How do you measure a relationship?
By the future?
By the arguments?
I’ve always measured it by how far I could see down the road.
And honestly, with some I could see into 20’s or 30’s, but never the end of our road. Those thoughts were foggy, these are too but more clear, everything is blurred but your face, where with them everything but their face was clear.
With them, I saw lives I didn’t want, lives that were comfortably numb. I saw superficial happy endings.
But with you I see my forever.
I see 5 years down the road, chasing dreams
I see 10 years, building a family
I see 15 years, balancing life
I see 40 years, retiring
I see 50 years, walking down random city streets, hands entertained
I see 60+ years and meeting again someday in another existence  

I see forever with you
I want forever with you.


Decorating my bedroom floor.
Lit candles
Flickering upon nightstands.
Our favorite gentle music
Dancing into my ears.
And you're there, too
Waiting upon bed sheets
Bidding me come.
And as passion befalls me
Cold, frigid water
Rushes down my naked skin.
The warm water exhausted
Brings me back
To sitting in the shower

I miss you, baby

and when you face the flat do you
can you pick out the hairs
that anyway make funny side-ways movements
that wave hello if you
want them to

just to poke fun at the
teeth of combs, the way they follow suit:

(that get whistled into the middle of
; the core

lunging out leaves of harmonica breeze --

Can you move spectacles up the
fringe of a face and

place a tip of a finger
from far away
to the
temple where aisles meet
map all the smiles she made in
her life

(a dot indents in the middle where
someone broke her heart )

or do you put a cheek, to the end
of their ass do you

wonder how to grasp a thigh
bend them to a shape more inclined to
include you

(all the empty space we got to make something we find pretty of
and all and all and all we ever want to do with it
is fuck (or eat
or have the floor, swing beneath our feet.)

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