In your eyes, I see the luster of the stars
And the loneliness of the moon.

In the night somewhere
A baby cries
And somewhere else
Lovers sigh
And as time passes
An old man dies

Somewhere out in space
A planet turns
And light years away
A star sun burns
Making us merely dust
And no-one learns

                                 By Phil Roberts

It’s just gone midnight,
And I’m full of whisky,
But I must Assert,
That I am Me.

The only one
Who lives THIS life.
Even The Queen cannot do that.
Nor Putin, Nor Trump
Or Whoever.

Only I count.
I’m The One.
Yes I’ve said this before.

When I Go
The World will end
As far as I’m concerned.
And that’s all that matters.

You may think this selfish.
It is.
My only defence is that
I revere All Life.
By choice.

I Loved my Mum
And Dad.
And I love all my relatives
And Friends.
Especially my Sister.

I wouldn’t **** a spider
Or a fly.
I love all animals
And Plants.

Caring is my middle name
In fact.

But in the end,
I’m the one
Who counts
Like I said.

I need no “recognition”
Or fame,
Or even money –
So long as I have enough
To get me by.

My teachers showed me I have some talent:
Lucky genes.
If only I’d done enough homework…
But I count my blessings.

I do not say all this out of aggression.
But rather, I am being Assertive:
Showing Self-Esteem
And saying No
As required.
Expressing what I feel
As me.

Yes it’s me, me, me.
You’ll just have to accept it.

Paul Butters

I chop off my hands before reaching for my gun
My matted hair is tangled so I sweep it into a bun
I wave hello to the bus driver who's on the last run
as I shield my eyes from the burning, midnight sun
I put the bazooka in my mouth, Jesus it weighs a ton
I pull the trigger, the missile penetrates, this ain't fun

When June comes dancing o'er the death of May,
With scarlet roses tinting her green breast,
And mating thrushes ushering in her day,
And Earth on tiptoe for her golden guest,

I always see the evening when we met--
The first of June baptized in tender rain--
And walked home through the wide streets, gleaming wet,
Arms locked, our warm flesh pulsing with love's pain.

I always see the cheerful little room,
And in the corner, fresh and white, the bed,
Sweet scented with a delicate perfume,
Wherein for one night only we were wed;

Where in the starlit stillness we lay mute,
And heard the whispering showers all night long,
And your brown burning body was a lute
Whereon my passion played his fevered song.

When June comes dancing o'er the death of May,
With scarlet roses staining her fair feet,
My soul takes leave of me to sing all day
A love so fugitive and so complete.

Your eyes
sent electricity bolts
down my spine and
awakened me

My heart
beat to the rhythm
of your voice
tuning itself to your melody

Your  laugh
unwrapped me
from the barbed wires
i was enclosed in

My  skin
alive
moved to the beat
of our harmony

S.G