Son-
Sadness and happiness
in this Land of Liars;
a poem (just for you).
With a head on a *Corduroy Pillow
They Called Her Earth
The 'Greatest Poet Alive';
Surfing a Flying Saucer While Memorizing, Hagakure.
The Scars From Your Fingertips
smacks of a Heavy Metal Romeo:
a Win-win, since
There Are Plenty of fish in the Sea.
flame on; poets//liars-
write your Six Word Story,
Your Chocolate Poems,
Untitled.
Winds of Change
though Always Mama's Baby,
because i still love you,
our, My Life Is A Gift
Casting shadows,
in Summer Rain.

Kismet.

A Carved tree and No Dominion
A Stage; Twice A Week The Winter Thorough-
fair! The Greek Boy, son, Conceptualize This:
A Crush, love, Used, ***** You, and a Siren's Lament.
These are Confessions of A Hope Fiend,
Old wounds that refuse to heal!
Feet in Water, In Need; She Was Poetry in Motion.
The only Consolation, To You, a Goddess amongst humans;
a Headache ...Orion (Faded Stars and Bittersweet Thursday Mornings).
It hurts
"To my darling wife" (Unintended)
this is a Reminder, Motionless Ancestry;
See You in the Next One.
10 things i have learned about myself:
The Gift of reason, aportraitofmylover,
a portrait of my lover.

Poets-
Stay True.
Do it again
Word of the worlds
Hell-bound, eccentric
You call it love - off the back of an envelope
this, You're my Tsunami
with the company you keep
Ripples
of What I thought about you, Unveiled
now in Wintertime
this Epilogue To Asolando
a Panic Attack, Journey,
Ruined by Mistake after
the Autumn Light
Mild is The Parting Year,
to this Silent observer.
Untitled, by love.

-cec

Decent, due to gravity's envy
this selfless plunge over
mountain's rock, under valleys
wet logs, feet in gravel pools
sounding like freeway rubber
and jocular splashing chats
these rushing verses of this lubber
"gang aft agley"

-cec

Shakespeare's 'First Folio'-
comely words for a human race!

-cec

"and death shall have no dominion"

Though dominoes
build philosophical ladders
with numbered dots
and endless time
in summer heat
long shots of root liquor
and an eye for
winning over love
death looks over one's left shoulder
and whispers a next tile

-cec

all memory wrapped into petals, stem and leaves
knowing that at one time roots hold it all in concert

now we take these hurts, heart and dried tears
back home to life, and love, composed in rhyming consonants

laying to rest colors, scent and texture's caress
for more subtle shades of winter's promised spring

block stone weighs heavy in worm turned grasses
recollecting winding soil for seeds to pullulating fling

-cec

Those Orcas that just got out of frame
fame and fortune in that shot-glass 'Sound'
and focused; coke-bottle vision into depths
far deeper than their soundings, though
secondary in nature and posed as opposed
to that pod's posse of curving mammals
arched into each wave or trough
in that fluid home we call Puget
with the sound of ferry engines
breaking the silent sail boat's cut
and jib as it too arcs its slack in black/white
canvas waving to windward destinations,
as each click-shutter-whirl encapsulates
drops of sun, sea gull and horizon
ghosting as though mist were sky
semi-filled number painting panoramas
and water-color soaked landings
bringing us closer to docked domains
and they disappeared into a dimpled surface
evading this circular myopic lens

-cec

These days it seems
I remember my early childhood
Better than the contents of my last meal
Dementia creeps.......

Right now,
I'm remembering one early evening
With four of us small boys
Sitting on a wall
Discussing the realities of the world
As we knew it

The moon was pale but visible
And a subject for discussion
As serious as old men playing chess
We wondered how far away it could be
One lad said it was farther than London
But we knew that was obviously wrong
After all
We could see the moon
No-one had seen London

                                       By Phil Roberts