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 Jan 2014 The voice
AJ
I Know CPR
 Jan 2014 The voice
AJ
Sometimes listening to the ceiling fan
Will get me calm enough to see
That the sun didn't set any faster today.
But there are bruises I get quite frequently
From words strangers whisper to each other
Halfway across the country.
Their names are engraved in my lungs,
Their names will never be mine to see.
Are you struck with her figure and face?
    How lucky you happened to meet
With none of the gossiping race,
    Who dwell in this horrible street!
They of slanderous hints never tire;
    I love to approve and commend,
And the lady you so much admire,
    Is my very particular friend!

How charming she looks — her dark curls
    Really float with a natural air;
And the beads might be taken for pearls,
    That arc twined in that beautiful hair:
Then what tints her fair features o'erspread -
    That she uses white paint some pretend;
But, believe me, she only wears red
    She's my very particular friend!

Then her voice, how divine it appears
    While carolling: "Rise gentle moon;"
Lord Crotchet lastnight stopped his ears,
    And declared that she sung out of tune;
For my part, I think that her lay
    Might to Malibran's sweetness pretend;
But people won't mind what I say —
    I'm her very particular friend!

Then her writings — her exquisite rhyme
    To posterity surely must reach;
(I wonder she finds so much time
    With four little sisters to teach!)
A critic in Blackwood, indeed.
    Abused the last poem she penned;
The article made my heart bleed —
    She's my very particular friend!

Her brother dispatched with a sword,
    His friend in a duel, last June;
And her cousin eloped from her lord,
    With a handsome and whiskered dragoon:
Her father with duns is beset,
    Yet continues to dash and to spend —
She's too good for so worthless a set —
    She's my very particular friend!

All her chance of a portion is lost,
    And I fear she'll be single for life;
Wise people will count up the cost
    Of a gay and extravagant wife:
But tis odious to marry for pelf,
    (Though the times are not likely to mend,)
She's a fortune besides in herself —
    She's my very particular friend!

That she's somewhat sarcastic and pert,
    It were useless and vain to deny;
She's a little too much of a flirt,
    And a slattern when no one is by:
From her servants she constantly parts,
    Before they have reached the year's end;
But her heart is the kindest of hearts —
    She's my very particular friend!

Oh! never have pencil or pen,
    A creature more exquisite traced;
That her style does not take with the men,
    Proves a sad want of judgment and taste;
And if to the sketch I give now,
    Some flattering touches I lend;
Do for partial affection allow —
    She's my very particular friend!
 Jan 2014 The voice
Just Heather
I run.            
                                  I sprint as fast as I can.
                                  Not that there's any need.
                                  There's nothing trying to keep me,
                                                No guards,
                                                No fences,
                                                Not even the rope;
                                           It wore away with every lie.

                      I smile.
                                  I can feel the freedom
                                  As it pulses through my veins.
                                  I no longer feel the crimson love
                                                Pouring,
                                                Rushing,
                                                Escaping from cuts,
                                           All my scars are healed at last.

                      I sing.
                                  I allow my soul's song to fill the air.
                                  For the first time in forever,
                                  It is neither a scream nor a cry
                                                For mercy,
                                                For relief,
                                                For an end to the pain,
                                           The dark prison fades in the distance.  


                                                           I simply cannot understand
                                                     Why they believe I should lament
                                                                        This freedom,
                                                                  When, in all honesty,
                                                                                  I've never felt more alive.
The fingers bleed
and burn a little bit
but it’s all worth it.
To know someone else
sees things the way you do,
if only partially.
trying to fathom
how many people
may see what you’ve created.
Inspiration.  Courage.  Confidence.
In myself and in others.
It hurts to carry on sometimes,
but you keep pushing
because you know you have to
make it.
And if others feel they
can make it too, because of
what you’ve done, there are few
better feelings than
knowing you’ve helped the world
by helping yourself.
I look in the mirror just to say
I am looking forward to another day.
I laugh and cry,
But I am not sure why.
Can you see through me?
I just want to be free!
I live in a bubble
Filled with all this trouble
I want to get this through,
*I still love you!
 Jan 2014 The voice
Ogden Nash
To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you’re wrong, admit it;
Whenever you’re right, shut up.
Goodnight, my friends.
I can no longer tarry.

A man calls me to my bed,
And I should go to meet him,
To embrace him.
Though I know not his name,
I greet him as a lover,
A husband.

If I should not wake,
You will know his name.
If I should open my eyes,
You will know his name.

For there are two strangers,
Twins with opposing desires.
Fraternal in every way
But one.

Goodnight, my friends.
I go to meet the man,
To embrace him,
As a lover
And a wife.

I sleep peacefully beside,
And in the morning,
You will know his name.
The Age Around My Eyes

I know there's age around my eyes
And grey runs through my hair
But I'd love to spend my life with you
And always have you near

I want to hold you in my arms
And kiss you every night
Show you what it means to love
Let you feel love deep inside

As my skin begins to age with time
And my vision slowly fades
I will use the memory of our love
To guide me through each day

Time has helped me understand
The true beauty of your soul
The love you shared has filled my heart
And made my life more whole

I know there's age around my eyes
And grey runs through my hair
But I'd love to spend my life with you
If you will have me there


Carl Joseph Roberts*
January 2014
My first poem of 2014. A childhood friend and continued great friend of mine,  Bob Browning gave me the idea for this poem and told me to run with it. This is what I came up with.
 Dec 2013 The voice
Desert Rose
You want me
You take all of me
My many flaws
Covered up by painful scars

You want me then
You accept my past
All my failures,
My guilt, my shame

You want me you have to work
I promise it won't be easy
To take my pain away
Kiss away all the scars
Heal the pain
Protruding in my heart

You want me
You shower me
With love and affection
Show me what it's like to be loved
Take my hand as we
Throw ourselves into the unknown
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