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

There's slaughter in the fields

                              Men
                             Women
                         Children
                      Frozen
                    No fight
                   No flight
                      (Frozen)

Thunder
Everywhere
though
There are no clouds in the skies

                                             ******
                                            My daughter
                                              ******
                                             My mother
                                               ******
                                                    Me
         ­                                 
                       Running for water
                      Through the rubble
                         All homes destroyed
                        ****** taking aim -
                          The bullet
                         Does it have my name

War
War
What's it good for
                                    Numbness
                                            Is
                 ­                  The only game I know

The dogs
Are eating corpses
In the streets

                                              Just another day
                                                In World War
                                                        III

It'­ll end one day
Peace will return
to a quiet Earth.

not everyone is gonna feel this way
for the beggar on the corner selling pencils
one by one, ok if children sleep
yes better  not knowing ,
still in love I sing  for you
can't me I can't help
but love you as the moon goes by
more the sun shines in your eyes
day by day I wanna see more
of you the moon , too!

I stay awake with stars, thinking of your eyes
amber fields, flecked with golden moons
your lips, red cast by secret coral worlds
swim, my hands you catch in woven nets
roped hair of salt and seaweed curls
hold my breath, catch and save myself
nightly, in the deep end, just before I drown.

monday comes in with a beating
tuesday opens awfully sore
wednesday knows
it's thursday's tow
once more

friday shows up for the party
saturday sleeps in late
sunday feels it's best
to take itself to rest
for when

monday comes in with a beating
tuesday opens awfully sore
wednesday knows
it's thursday's tow
once more

friday shows up for the party
saturday sleeps in late
sunday feels it's best
to take itself to rest
for when

monday comes in with a beating
tuesday opens awfully sore
wednesday knows
it's thursday's tow
once more

friday shows up for the party
saturday sleeps in late
sunday feels it's best
to take itself to rest
for when

monday comes in with a beating...

I see two fire trucks pass each other
going opposite directions.
As I’m trying to think of a clever metaphor
for poor planning
I remind myself that at least one family
is standing in a thigh high pile of fine ash
that was their home
just an hour ago.
Maybe two families.
These thoughts and others haunt me when I’m pulled from my duck footed sidewalk reverie
by a lottery ticket stuck in the riff-raff that separates
Gateway Ave from the parking lot of the Nervous Hospital.
It is laid bare like a mugging victim;
crumpled up and inches from the gutter.
That was someone’s dream
just a day ago.
Think I’ll cross the street-
give that homeless vet a dollar.
It’s my last one.
My house has fleas, but
it ain’t on fire.

I avoid ppl
I've been
Officially broken
Now I have to
Rebuild myself
At home

Green
With it i imagine things
What to buy
What to do
But when it all comes down
It has no value
Its just a way for satan
To take your soul