If ever
I get too old to laugh
**** me

                   By Phil Roberts

Ain't that a sin
to make the body with soul Suffer
in the name of cure treatment.
Are they still believing its love
ain't that the only sin ever laid
to meridian hearts.

He walked the streets a begger
they buried him like a king
he played a six string guitar
he wore no golden ring

She had the voice of angels
survived a valley called death
then fearing no evil
she passed every test

They wrote the songs with sunsets
they walked the line together
they stood in a ring of fire
in love they burned forever

My mind is hurtin'
from the words that were said
I can see your body
still imprinted in your bed
memories gone by
thinkin' they are dead
45 years of a sinnin' life
and my veins have all been bled

I had three children
and he was the other one
the only  two men I'd ever love
turned out to be my only sons
I was a lovin' Mother
I was a lovin' wife
the only two things that
I got right
in this... God-forsaken life

Hey Heaven
won't you open up that pearly gate
I'm hoping there's still a chance for us
and you & I
can end this hate
No I ain't no Holy Roller
and I know that it's your thing
But every once in a while
you
might wanna...hear me sing

I sang to you darlin'
when you were just a boy
when everything in life
looked like another toy
I wrote down those lyrics
in a favorite ol' song book
so I hope you open it up tonight
and give our life,
a second look...

Hey Heaven
won't you open up those pearly gates
he's standing in the front
so tall at six foot eight
Oh, I ain't no Holy Roller
but I'm askin' of the king
if I can join the angels
when they come to you and sing

I'm tired of wasting
and our time is growing old
I got more to say dear
our stories should be told
was ready for the lake of fire
and hopin' for the land of gold

I'm raising voices
and I'm not the only one
you and I we share this sound
and it's been a real good run
sang country, blues and rockin' roll
hell...
it was a lotta' fun

I sang for my lovers
and  I sang for my friends
times so sweet that I recall
remindin' me of when
I'm askin' as I go,  
and I'd do it all again

Hey Heaven
won't you open up those pearly gates
I hope you're not closing
I hope I'm not coming late
No...I ain't no Holy Roller
but you know
I can't stop this thing
and every once in a while
I see you when you smile
and I know you  like...
to hear me sing


Cherie Nolan 2016

I love you onion
I'll tell you why
in part because
you make me sigh,
you are everything to me
the song my Mother sang...
a whimsical, sad
and poignant little tale
I hear you crooning
& the radio tuning
my Mother knew me better
than I'd like to think,
singing ...
Lonely 'Lil petunia in an onion patch
a bittersweet memory
of all the saddest words
that I have ever heard
the saddest is the story
told me by a bird
tears fall from a pungent smell
when I cannot forgive,
say you'll never tell
and in tears of laughter  
when I'm tickled
seeing the inchworm
in the shape of a finger
a moment comes,
  I stay
and linger
climbing like a spider
singing me a verse
Spent about an hour
chatting with a flower
and here's the tale he told
as you're peeling layers,
& hearing prayers
revealing honesty
and depth of flavor
intoxicating waifs
I sniff and savor
kept safe
by a sturdy skin
cooking you
I start, begin
chopped fresh
and finely diced
or maybe
even thinly sliced
for summertime
franks, not the
Ballpark kind
these I doubt
you'll ever find
homemade baked beans
that you adorn and grace
a smiling sweet,
lil' onion face
everything made
from scratch
gleaning my
lil' onion patch
in toasted rolls,
whole grain mustard
potato salad...
best I can recall
my Mother
took the time to make
in everything
she cooked and baked
you're in all my memories
though you're in so much more
I've never shared with you
this love I have before
Onions are adaptation at its finest
fresh, sauteed with butter
translucent sweetness
Elevating anything you touch
they cry, and laugh
and give so much
dried, grated..slightly dated...
even hated, chopped up..
or roasted, grilled...
so very skilled
any way you slice it
even if you dice it
differently delightful
and delicious
smart for recipes,
even onion haters
appreciate the graters
sometimes your in  disguise
a lovely found
& welcome surprise
must be
I have something
in my eyes
as the flower
continues to sing
a joyful gift
my onion brings
familiar sounds
songs I sing
petunia continues
who put me in this bed
I'll bet his face is red
I call him down
with every teardrop that I shed
  then she said
if only I had him here
I would take him by his ear
and make him share my misery
I'm cooking homemade
onion chips,
rewound on old-time family clips
recall the fresh-squeezed lemonade
while we're sittin' in
the cooling shade
a memory of you replayed
so very glad you came & stayed
  sippin' slow brewed iced tea
my lil' onion friend and me.

Cherie Nolan© 2016

It has to be said that
I've always thrived in dives
And stumbled in polite society
You see, I tend to talk too much
And laugh in all the wrong places
These modern eternals hate me
Because I smoke and I'm still alive
And I constantly smell of tobacco
So I'll stick to the dives
And the undemanding low-lifes
Who, like myself
Simply do not care

                             By Phil Roberts