I want to breath in
a sweet cotton air.
Moments of ones mind
stretching forth
elegant and divine.

A piano drips like rain,
Reverberating above the soul,
while frequencies dance
across nerves full of static.

Pangs and woes,
weigh heavy upon my shoulders,
too broad and too weak,
to carry much more.

Life's burden weighs down
the branches of trees,
their fruits bruised against the ground
turn sour by the first rain.
One must tend to lifes terms

Contracts laid down in cosmic fibers,
Guides the flow of time.
If time could be streatched,
The structure of the universe
would appear like a roadmap,
Expanding and contracting,
Like the heartbeat of time


Tic...

Toc...

I spent the night with the man in the moon,
He smiled, and winked at me
I told him my secrets, blew him kisses,
Till he sank, in the milky way sea

poetry
used to rush out of me
like raging angry tides
but now that
my demons are sleeping
i cannot seem to remember
how to write

Sitting with my laptop on top of the blanket, hot against my legs
I feel like a writer
The ideas burning quickly through my mind
Characters, conversations conjured

Why do I always do this?
Abandoning yet another half-finished story, its characters crying for an ending
But a new story calls louder
This time, I'll finish it
Take four

All of the shining mad ones
With their heresies of reality
And other visions and other voices
Are not diminished
By the multitude of choices
That is their truth
Upon each waking day

They are woken by the howl
From beyond the first ear
And into the deeper mind
Where there is other language
And blinding colours of emotion
For madness has the purity of pain
That martyrs can only long for

                                           By Phil Roberts

two things
we can give our children:
roots and wings

-
•fig•ment : something made up or contrived
•re•al•i•ty : the quality or state of being real
-


*Dreaming while sleeping, and sometimes awake
Whimsical fancies fueling escape

Wishing is for the uncertainties
Collecting more than three from genies

Checking out my daily horoscope
Astrology might give me some hope

Calling out all the deities I know
Bending my knees, blessings they might bestow

The magic still holds expectations
Of this world its seen from all views

But the signs are unclear, faded
It doesn't feel useful when put to use

And I still await, alone
For something that may just come passing by

Or maybe in the form of an angel
Dancing with howling clouds across the sky