Hello
It's me again
It's the early hours and I'm slightly drunk
And it's me again

He has the sins of his mind
Which keep him warm inside
Amidst the weary and the wasted
Such warmth keeps him alive

Restless
I've always been restless
I hate to move yet I can't sit still
Hours are endless

There is a thrush inside his head
An agony of wings
Panic beaten thrashing
A cage of singing things

Anxious
Still always anxious
Even though I've slowed right down
This edge is ageless

Laying low and watching
A million sub-plots hatching
Paranoid and paranormal
He scatters to survive

                                     By Phil Roberts

Take your time slowly and surely, my love
Your open arms may one day be my home
Allow me some time, too, to fit into your frame
I am not used to be told that I will be safe

Sink into me deeper and ever so gently, my love
We are a hundred stories wrapped into one
I have long let go of my childhood dreams
Yet your grasp made me believe in fairy tales once more

Pull me close and take me away, my love
Today you may be a part of one sonnet in my book
Take a day, a fortnight, or a moon’s time
And may you become the word to every story

Late nights haunt me
With memories of old conversations
With people I used to know

I remember the ways
I used to look at them
And how dumb I was
And how dumb they were

The names and faces
Old friends and would-have-been lovers
Ring and ring into my head like church bells
Before the Sunday mass would start

They echo in the halls of my mind
Like noise in school corridors
Or cars honking in parking lots
Or even guns at a shooting range

I live with these ghosts
Who sing about the friendly insults
And misunderstandings
And shattered hearts

May God be with me.

For years they shared similar
Goals and dreams
Then a crossroads
Upon the horizon
Brought them to a halt
Choices were made
And paths diverged
Once united, now divided
Though moments
Shine with laughter and joy
Swiftly, storm clouds
Of disdain and contempt
Can color the air
As choices made are ridiculed
A delicate balance exists
That teeters rhythmically
One minute, camaraderie prevails
Stirring feelings of love
The next moment, despair rules
Planting seeds of rage
How I miss the one,
But hate the other…

Kelly Rose
© December 29, 2016

Where did all the love go,
in the tears of yesterday?

Can we make the love grow,
with the years of yesterday?

Show me in what you know,
tell me ears of yesterday,

Oh your love that I will show you..
with no fears of yesterday.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

in a rather expensive restaurant
6 people are seated at a table next to us
drunk and bored
fat and old.

"hey blondie," the blue haired thrice divorce widow asks jen,
"how's that hamburger taste?"
blue hair pops an oyster from its grey shell as manny laughs
but his sagging eyelids can't see daylight.

I light a cheap cigar and blow smoke their way.
someone coughs and I smile.

they plan funeral arrangements.
discuss burial vs cremation.
manny wants to be cremated
while blue hair wants to be buried.
they argue.

and when a waitress comes to pick up 6 empty shells
left on the white china plate
I turn to them and smile again.
they are envious
because
we are young.

later: much, much later
in the crack in the ceiling of time
seated at a table
i pluck an oyster
and leave an empty shell.