Technology walks into world
Flick of a finger bought and sold
ATM machines replace a cashiers smile
Robotic voice replace the sweet voice  in style
Foods and things home delivery bliss
Feel of things we bought we miss
A smile of a known baker
The small talk with a grocer
A few change short overlooked
A special item by request booked
Lost the heart and art of a sale
To machines accurate heartless scale
Human touch with a smile calling my name
A buzz and whirr of a machine never the same

My fingers close on nothing more
Or less than what was there before,

But what is now was meant to be.
This heart will starve in reverie.

So to the next, whichever path
This river takes, what's past is past,

What's next is next... but now is mine--
My gift to me, all bound in twine

And velvet drape. The water's still.
Shall I leap? I think I will.

it is truly sobering
what life has to offer
once one begins to listen
begins to search
begins to accept
what our senses are telling us
it is there for us to explore
and oh
how I have explored these last few years

when the doubts have subsided
we can enter this illuminating world
we can touch the other side
hear the voices of the past that are not chained by time
observe those that observe us from afar

this is the life I have come to know
phenomenon within my grasp
the unbridled certainty
the crystalline clarity
the cleansing freedom that comes with the knowledge
that we are not alone

Protected by a suit of dreams
And armed with a smile
He came out of nowhere
And went his own way

Seemingly believing nothing
And walking in no-one else's footsteps
He follows no rules without reasons
But he knows right from wrong
And he knows that's what matters

In a world of easy hypocrisy
Where compassion is stifled by fear
And belief is a reason to hate
To hate and destroy other beliefs
He goes his own way

                              By Phil Roberts

this is what your mother does not want you to see,
that your ancestors rattled the cages so hard they broke
and learned to tame the lioness that stepped out from the aftermath.
you can find your linage in the dirt beneath your grandmothers fingernails,
here is the fight that they poured into your soul,
the mountains that they climbed,
the battles that they conquered.
your mothers grandmother laughs like wicken,
carries something valuable in the deep creases of her skin,
tells you not to waste your time with love and lust,
but to chase the wind while your feet are strong enough to carry you.
this is what your mother does not want you to see,
that you come from a long line of women nothing close to tame.
that you carry the blood of those who molded the world,
instead of letting it mold them.