I love the feeling of the wind,
Right before a thunderstorm.
I love the smell of cinnamon,
On a cold winter day.
I love the sound of the trees,
The way the leaves tussle in the breeze.
I love the sight of the clouds,
Turning from white to grey.
But I could never love these things,
As much as I love you.
I lone to feel your skin against mine.
The touch of your lips against mine,
Your hand intertwined in my hand,
The sound of your heart beating,
At the same pace as mine.
Someday, I will be by your side.
And I'll never leave, we'll never be apart again.
God, I love you so much..

You know you are in love when

You go out for a great meal and nothing
On the menu appeals more than
His/her lips...

You are kissing him/her and
A tiger comes up to lick your
Hand (tasting?) and you don't
Even notice...

The thought of him/her
Sends a thrill through your
Entire body...

When you are around your
Other friends they tease you for
Being a bore because all you
Talk about is him/her...

You see him/her across the street
And rush headlong into
Oncoming traffic...

The mustache on her lip
Only serves to make you want
To kiss her MORE!

You love to run your fingers
Through his hair...
Even though he has more
On his BACK than on
His head!

It's been 20 years and the above
Is still true!

.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...

Age Is Just A Number

Age is just a number
So refuse to act your age
Reach that point in your life
You don't care what others say

Do what makes you happy
What keeps you young inside
As long as it hurts no one else
Just go and live your life

Date those that are younger
Or older if you choose
Pick the path that you take
The one that best for you

Don't look back and then wonder
On things you should have done
Do all the things that you want
And begin to have some fun

Age is just a number
So refuse to act your age
Reach that point in your life
You don't care what others say

Age is just a number

Poem by: Carl Joseph Roberts

My mind is a desert
Thoughts and tears
It's rain.

A once lavish field
Turned to a sandstorm
Of lies and pain.

With a shell as hard
As the deserts land
my once freedom lyes
In the enemies hand

Forming around is a crust
Of stone
To protect, the very little
I still call my own.

Thoughts no more-
The once strong and bold
Have now
Dried and shriveled
And are
Buried deep in some hole.

nobody was who they claimed to be anymore
they changed, mostly rotted
everything is rotting and i wanted to run away
i did not want to become expired at this age,
decomposed into an attitude of egocentricity and midnight humor,
i did not want to ridicule those around, spewing venom consistently
making someone feel less and causing them to decay
i wanted to love everybody despite their capacities, their intelligence, their attitude
i did not want the trend of hating the human race
i cannot stand "i hate everyone but myself" anymore
its time to put an end
i refuse to live my life with negative energy hovering around swelling me up into a mound of stress and forehead wrinkles

hear me out
i need to leave
don't rot me too

His ears are bleeding
His throat on fire
From the lies trapped deep inside

The words so violent
with breath of delusion
And eyes of fog
Making it hard to see


The mind cannot  be free
Once beaten not to think

Like the soul
Hidding in the darkest shadow

Trapped for life
Confined in a corner of abuse

No remorse,  no regrets
His feet  murderous weapons
Stomping on others dreams
Leaving them, once he is done
Looking like a trampled flower garden.

With their roots torn
And beauty now hidden
He looks in the mirror

His razor like ungroomed nails
Tare into his cheeks
As teats run from his eyes
Blood runs from his cheek

What have I done?
Who have I become?
I am unraveling
I've become undone.