That's me in the middle
In the middle of the world
Just as everyone else
Is in the centre of their's
And we'll never meet
Or even live in the same climate
A thousand miles to west or east
And yet
By the grace of various miracles
Your words may move me
And hopefully, mine will move you
To defy distance and differences
By Phil Roberts
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
need a little me time, on green on tee time
on e with an e light, but the neon gonna be fine
at least goin to B right? if not single speed bike
on High in the street lights
cars passin me breeze by, no rush for the green light
leaned back on this seat o mine
breathe in the season, summertime
lilac, the leaves back, tree sap
knee slacks, T-Shirt, nikes, what a time?
reading back cluttered lines, hummin rhymes
to myself and those who wander by
keep them in your spongy mind if you want some lines
they're shelved kept up in my attic otherwise
it's not easy livin dreams, just dreamin them
Constantly the reason I'm sleepin in.
should consider leaving open my shuttered blinds
so as to not wake around three pm.
but just the thought of that shuddered mind
brought distractions, wore off Elysium.
guess tonight I did fine, should go easy then
all work no plays no good for a youngins mind.
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
they won't catch me slippin.
my shoes are resistant,
my views are resistant.
a few anyway...
could lose grip in an instant.
to them, my truth is fiction.
to love, is all that i meant with
all my decisions. well most anyway...
some say I been distant
I just stay a safe distance.
don't take it personal, assure you that it isn't.
more security than anything.
insecurity's my middle name.
it'd be yours too if your doorbell rang
and the ring tone ****** like your cell phones drakes.
in that bell tone way.. that you hate.
but you wont change, and I won't too
til they catch me slippin like, you fell down Jake.
til the hell bound day,
when the smell hounds break.
Then I'll tell house mates,
"I'm headed to the jailhouse, bail out Jake."
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
Doing this and that, business getting busy,
haven't written any.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 3:53 PM UTC
*** dreams of ex girls.
Resting to keep alive.
Dead to me in this world.
...guess not.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
I do this and that
for rent and cash.
If school is what you're gettin at,
I may get back, pick up a class.
A Math or English isn't bad...
Couldn't hurt, I don't know.
I'm sittin back with Rick and Max,
relaxin after hittin turf.
Kick and pass, not hittin herb,
well that too. Kickin back.
A fresh brew, I'm sippin black
in afternoons to focus.
Pen and pad, a middle view.
A poem, a written rap.
I'm sittin at the moment
on Youtube and itchin ***
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
A migrant hits the dust.
Hits the lock key on the door and takes the bus.
Piping coffee in his gut for wit and warmth.
A bit anxious for the meeting coming up.
But he's a migrant, done this many times before.
Switched his sweats to dress the part, shirt tucked.
Another part to play so days he can afford.
Just another hustle for a buck.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
I miss you like yesterday.
I hope your semester great.
Straight A's for the letter grades.
I miss you like yesterday.
I want to text you to set it straight.
Figure there's better ways.
I miss you like yesterday.
Remember eleventh grade,
at a friends house we'd celebrate.
I miss you like yesterday.
I do not expect a date,
but maybe we conversate
'bout stuff from the present day.
I miss you like yesterday.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 6:36 PM UTC
I never asked for college fund,
Appreciate you got me one.
But you suppose since you saved up,
I should spend it on what you want.
Where I'm attending, advice you offer,
"Go to this school, my alma mater.
Close to home, your Mother and Father.
Here to help and see you prosper."
"Art majors will make you nothing.
Choose Math, you can switch to something,
When you find what makes you money
and you don't mind doing plenty."
"Now go off, make us proud son.
Please be safe, not too much fun.
These are the best years, when you're done
it's all just work, kids and beer gut."
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
Drove through the wasteland with purpose.
Pulled up and parked at the compound.
The lonely building felt lifeless,
I stepped inside lookin around.
This lady gave me a number,
stone faced, she pointed said, "sit down."
Wandered there with the others,
who looked so hopeless and wigged out.
Another number said, "First time?
This is prolly my sixth now."
Heard number nineteen uttered.
Followed the voice to my fate.
Solemnly sweared on my mother,
to tell the truth to his face.
But before I had one word,
the Judges mind had been made.
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC