my aunt told me that the good thing about pain
is that you can remember it after it's gone,
but you can never recreate the feeling.
I think this is why I kept going back for more.

Some say I reflect only shadows
only darkness
only fear
am I to be negated for this
perhaps
accurate observation?
did Poe write of whimsical romps
through flower gardens?
did VanGogh paint in colors of glee?

balance
the dusk
the dawn
the unwitting pawn
the king who holds court
the peasant who merely survives

view from my pulpit before you judge
stand in my shadow before you declare
that I am without light

It has to be said that
I've always thrived in dives
And stumbled in polite society
You see, I tend to talk too much
And laugh in all the wrong places
These modern eternals hate me
Because I smoke and I'm still alive
And I constantly smell of tobacco
So I'll stick to the dives
And the undemanding low-lifes
Who, like myself
Simply do not care

                             By Phil Roberts

I used to keep my heart on my sleeve
so naive and easily deceived
any lie told to me, I would believe
my mind fought what my heart perceived

trying to find all of the right signs
I hid my heart and tried my mind
then within those dark confines
I've come to find that my heart was blind

Beyond the thoughts
that keep us bound
fear
suffering
anger  
love
we will fly
though it be fleeting

we savor
the height
while craving
the ground below
knowing
it takes both
to make
a soul

On cloudless moonlit nights
When the world is silver and darkest blue
And silence seems to reign supreme
If you stretch your hearing inwards
You will hear the distant moans
Of long lost lonely dreams
Homeless and obsolete
Fading away
To become endless shadows

                                           By Phil Roberts

Come, take my hand
Follow me into the forest
The fallen leaves, drenched with rain, will guide our path
Through the shaded glade and up the moss covered hill
Don’t be afraid to step in the mud
Listen, hear the crisp snap of twigs echo in the distance
The soft lull of trickling water, flowing in the creek
Watch, catch a glimpse of the timid deer
Hiding in the thicket and the little squirrel
Lilting across the treetops, acorns in cheek
Touch, stroke the rough bark beneath your fingertips
Caress the summer leaves, immerse your hands
In the tranquility of soothing waters
Feel, accept the dawn’s gentle kisses upon your face
The pure spirits that inhabit the trees
Feel nature pulsing through your body with renewed vitality
Breathe deeply;
Infuse your lungs with the richness of life
And speak:

Tell me, Mr. Arborist,
Do you still wish to destroy the forest?