Breathe...
I walk into your room,
And turn away from the caution sign that greets me.
The room is cold and smells of disinfectant.
I creep up beside you so as not to have you wake.
I avoid the lines that provide you life.
How small and helpless you seem.
Just a fragment of your former self.
A stranger...

I hear someone enter the room and I turn my head towards them.
The judgement and embarrassment are evident on their face.
I feel pity from those who watch his torment.
Eye contact is avoided.
They recoil from his touch and reach for the gloves,
That place a barrier between them.
I turn back towards my father.
So many memories...
Both good and bad.
I focus on the memories filled with joy.
The ones I wish to remember you by.
I keep the pain buried deep below the surface of my heart.

The silence is unbearable.
I reach for your hand and you turn your head towards me.
Your smile is quiet and no longer reaches your eyes.
There is no need to speak.
I feel the anger bubbling up inside me.
At the thought of the pain you must endure.
So many others out there in the world
But you were chosen to bear the stigma.
How did he contract it?
Is he gay or an addict?
I tried to ignore their ignorance,
But I just want to hurt them,
And have them share our pain.

I remember the day they told us,
"Sir you have AIDS".
I froze and looked up at you.
You told me it would be okay.
A lie to protect me from what the future would bring.
The end is near.
I love you Dee with all my heart,
And I will share your memories.
I give you one last kiss before you close your eyes,
You will now be free of the pain in this world,
Let your soul finally find peace.
I say goodbye for the last time,
And watch your breath fade away.

The sun sets.
I'm meditating with myself.
Silence now replaces
the hectic craze of the day.
I celebrate the change.

A flag droops limply.
It remembers, perhaps, when
it fluttered like a dagger in the heat.

My soul weary form slumps on a seat
and considers the ongoing tension
that seems to be the mark of existing.

From the window comes the
night sounds, eager to begin.
While overhead a daring moon
removes the sunshine trauma.

I surrender now.
I'm finished.
It's been a day, and a day again.
A ton of living to fill one up forever.

Tomorrow it might be just the same.
No matter.
The sun sets.
I'm meditating with myself.

By this time next year
I wonder where I will be
This page shows my identity
The wrongs and rights done to me
What I'm feeling is evident in all my readings
So what will my hello poetry say
This time next year
I hope it's happy
I hope my poems read with an element of sanity
But who knows
Maybe I won't be alive to write anything
I honestly wonder where I will be
This time next year

Today a man told a **** joke.
Everyone laughed.
I stood there and thought about it for a moment
And then I asked,
"What is funny about that?"
The laughter stopped
and they stood there in silence.
The momentary silence of shattered illusions,
There was no answer
Because it wasn't funny
So why laugh?

Even though I may be weak , and struggling here.
But he whom dwells within me, gives me Hope.
For it is not about me nor what I can do alone.
But it is about allowing my Savior and God.
Reveal to others what they can do through him.
For I shall always whither away when he is not in me.
But with Christ my Lord, I can do all things through him.
The same thing can be said about anyone abiding in him.
For if he can do these things through me whom struggles.
Just imagine the mighty feats that he can do through others.
Whom never lose their way , because they are always hanging on.

I once had a dream,
Turned into a nightmare
Thought I was livin’,
Found out I had died.
Heard all of the jokes,
But I just kept laughin’,
Told a couple myself,
And somebody cried.

World keeps on turnin’,
We keep getting’ older,
Mirrors and reflections,
Are foggy today.
All of our children
Are livin’ their own lives,
Sendin’ us emails,
“Hope you’re doin’ OK.”

I know that they mean well,
I did much the same,
Life’s movin’ faster
It’s a young person’s game.
Pushing the edges, and
Paintin’ new pictures
No room for old folks,
Nobody’s to blame.

Friend me on Facebook,
Post pictures of grandkids
I’ll know what you’re doing,
I’ll know where you are.
Enjoy all the hours
You have with your children
Your chips earned as parents
Only get you so far.
PwL 4/15/06

No-one knows how bad it was
And nobody knows how good
I wear my smile with bright abandon
Like the days of happy hedonism
But most of my scars are kept out of sight
Too ugly and too brutal to show
They're no-one's business but mine
The lines on my face
Are my long service medals
I never expected so many
Years or medals

                                    By Phil Roberts