I have this friend across the pond
As bright as clear-night stars
Intelligent and talented
And faster than souped up cars

But she has her flaws, alas
As all the best poets do
I know this to be a fact, of course
Who hasn't got one or two?

After all, it has to be said
Perfection is lack of character to me
So I'm keeping my eye on my talented friend
And watch as her mind flies free

                                                By Phil Roberts

When the day was dying
I was back to the market.

The last time I was there
haggled with her over the price.

She wanted to sell high
I wanted to buy low.

You win she said at last
I bought high
but have to sell low.

I knew she was lying.

This time she wasn't there.

Someone said
her man had left for another woman
and she hadn't since been seen.

The deepening evening hung like a dagger of pain.

She was never good at bargain.

Now between writings I create a space
so could read in ease and not in stress
to fill me with things I had less
not let my mind be drowned by pace.

Now between writings I create a space
it lessens the hurry kills the stress
helps to see ways find new address
discover light in untrod recess.

Now between writings I create a space
it shows me the order clears the mess
I think now more write down less
my soul is happy to be out of the race.

Now between writings I create a space
it reinvents ways kills the stress
lets me to places I didn't access
of unseen tears unread happiness.

You forget there's a sky above
Birds don't chirp trees are few
Gone is the hamlet that shaped your love
For a blade of grass cries the morn dew.

Mesh of wires runs over the sky
Air is thick with the reek of petrol
Scare you the trucks heavily passing by
Dazedly you search for the village of the ole.

Here was the home your soul's green abode
Where winter was cold March sprightly Spring
Your feet ran the soil not dusty metaled road
Dreams soared high on boundless wide wing.

Now all around are the townsfolk on race
Ruthless pace crushing ole hamlet's peace
But so is fated by the wheels of progress
That shows the gain more than all that you miss.

Hypotonic collusions
Rising in osmotic lesions
An eruptive soul reversion

Emissions of embered logs
Each lightening with a glow
A youthful straw of clemency

Pollinated sandals, handled
Gripping the flesh in vessels
Houses of lost and unreal dreams

Vicarage gardens of suppression
Masticated in delegated abstractions
A surmise of death and redistributions

Each a beat rise, slide on frosty ice
Un-enveloped in seasons of erosion
Delusional commotions sprawled

In the dance of the ecstatic programming
The body waved and led in hypnosis
******* with the intangible essence

To make sense a revised tense,I fence
Straying in lenient lunacy to fields afar
A merry to ferry the phoenix dance

Rattles shaking in transit translations
Drums pause settling in finesse pond
A coitus of dimensional valour and vice

i am
the space
that
my body needs
still
life is
a risk
while
i need
more space
to exist

There are rumors of a ghoul
Who stalks abandoned places
They say he is never full
And he wears many faces

He can hide in a memory
While you visit a loved ones grave
He can hide in the obituary
Of someone you couldn't save

He can feast on the living
While he is fed by the dead
He can constrict your breathing
If he can get into your head

He can eat away dreams
And leave behind despair
He'll split lips at the seams
To hide that he's there

His games are the worst of all
He'll pretend to be gone
Then laugh as you fall
Then he'll keep feasting on

As a newcomer
To this premier
Website for
poesía,
I
Get
Motion
Sick
Ness.

From seeing
The disdain
And despise.
Seeing other
Poets young
Old, couraged
Bold, happy,
Molds in
Their prime. Get bullied by other bullies.

By fanatics who ****
And maim, while their
Heads are held up in shame.
With a halo of pain
Murdering one
Another.

I seemed to have forgotten
Aren't we sisters
And poetic brothers,
Yet giving hatred
For hatred!
Not healing
Its
Wounds.

I believe in a powerful
God who loves, not based
On a theory of Darwinian
Baboons.

Message not clear
To
You. We are indistinguishable.
With the same red flowing through our arms.
Hearts that beat
With homes
Alarms.
Some drive cars
Others can't afford them.
Some have high class suits
Some are poor,
Some handle food
Some open doors.
Some journey
I want to explore.

To the point
The
malefactor and villain
Is not the ones you
Choose to
Make smaller. You only make them BIGGER
As your size
Capsulates as a pea to the wind.

Your the same you killer of poetic flame!
YOU ARE THEM.

So stop Killing
With words
Of no
Knowledge.

Start shaking hands
Saying good Job
Poetic muse
Of earth wind.

As you slay
And think -hey-
Maybe today I won the fight.
Always
Remember
You ****** yourself
Slowly
And that piles
Night by night.