Was it me that broke silences attributed to strength?
Volatile maybe, anything but weak.
Longing to break what is already bent,
My nerve quivers,
Never my lip.

Do not dream too loudly
You may awaken your conscience

                                        By Phil Roberts

Seasons come and goes, as rains perforates
Over the thunder and torrential
creeps
abounding a thousand miles and paths
variable stories of the lost in life and love

She found him until the old age struck
now she is lost in the dark gloomy rooms
enclosed in foreign memories and melodies
of when the lights faded and ceased

I found her clipping all stricken wings
footing the floating broken nest
uncontent to move from how it was
enclosed and supposedly destroyed

She sells true love and its mystery
Ohh how I never believe in fairlytales
Or go to the strange places where it hides
Is it true that love can be so special?

Ode to the Trumpet

The trumpet is a gift of Greece and Rome
Blown straight within the palaces of kings
Then curved into a circle for the wars
And finally folded in upon itself

No one knows when in ******* a hero
Took up a trumpet bold as brass, and said
“Trumpet, I bless you now with Africa”
And made it sing the winds of the Sahel

Layers of nations, cultures, dreams, and art:
The trumpet sings from the musician’s heart

They deserve better than I can be.
How many times I have just wanted to shoot myself!
It would save them the trouble of having to deal with me.
I can’t give them what they want
I can barely give them what they need
I don’t know how to do this;
My monthly income barely covers what everyone needs.
I am so tired,
I give my all but it is not enough!

Maybe God does not like me!
It’s the truth.
I am a divorced mother of four.
I have no family no help.
I already work two jobs at least seventy-five hours a week.
I have no time to sleep.
When I do I have night terrors.
My husband did not want me.
Why would anyone else?

My kids!
They love me but they go without things they need.
I am about to pick up the third job tomorrow.
I can’t do anything right and I am ugly.
Tell me he loves me?
No one loves me!

I have begged God for years
Where was he when I lived on the streets when I was twelve?
Where was he when I was ***** when I was seventeen?
Where was he when I needed him to take me from my husband?
And was stabbed two times in the chest and one time in the kidney?
Where was he when my husband punctured my lung and broke my ribs?
Where is he now?
When I am out of medication and have no help no family?

Who will save my ten years daughter from the devil eyes of my best friend?
Who I already had to sleep with!
Nothing to tell anymore!

I  am alone!
I will always be alone…
I am but a speck of dirt to God.
All who are heavy burdened, come to me and I will give you rest.
I use to be a Sunday school teacher.

I am sorry!
I am so sorry!!
Rah maybe God will help me one day!
I wish God will take my life ***** away.
He is the Almighty.
Yes, I do believe in one God.
He will help me!

When I am the guest of my brother
sleep watching shooting stars
in a black dog's eyes
asleep in a star drift, dreaming
of tides and spiral galaxies,
I am an ice sword dipped in wine,
death ringing in your ears
like the darkest shadow of night,
a lost sailor drifting through
the centuries in a black ship,
a man standing vigil over a grave
cleaning mud off of his boots
with a knife.