The words that leave my lips
Shall disappear
Like breath in cold air
Going nowhere
Meaning nothing

These poems into which
We pour our hearts
Other than the smallest few
Shall be lost in endless cyber space
Like billions of trillions of others

The loves that we swear eternally
Can last no longer than lovers' lives
It shall be negated by death
Other than to an unknown
And unknowing energy

                                        By Phil Roberts

It sneaks up on you
tasteless
breathless
and you suddenly realize
that maybe teaching
a fish to climb
isn't going to solve
the turbulent waters
within

That moment when a gesture
heralds the thought of contemplation
and you revaluate your attention.  
no longer do you feel sullen within,
knocking on the doors buried thoughts.
for one single action can create ripples
upon the deliberation of what we,
l have to be thankful for with a single action .

Roam phantoms
of my little
lost self,
Playing, running
around the apple trees

Happy is
the laughter
of my twin sister

Through the kitchen
window Mom fixes
dinner

Her smile bastes
the turkey
for Thanksgiving

Roam phantoms
of my little
lost self,
Playing, running
around the apple trees

Now
the fallen apples
rot on the ground

The backyard
of my past
is sullen wet
with leaves

There is a stiffness in my thumb
That stops me dead on feet
When I bend it, snap,
I clench my teeth

Cars hiss, splashing tires
The rain soothes my bones
Outside my grimy pane,
Dolorous bells—
Telephones

Do thumbs really ache
In inclemency?
All this time the rain
Has acidified, melting my marrows,
Or perhaps I had only fallen

On Sundays the creatures
Ooze from their awkward dwellings,
Like fat worms after a downpour,
And rush the City.

They infect silently with their sick eyes,
They brush along your shoulder in passing,
They exchange ***** money,
They cause accidents.

They stare at you from across
Your favorite diners
With black coffee depression
And mutter underneath their breaths:
"This isn't real."