You can not choose the weather.
Nor the way the day's unfold.
You can not pick out the sunsets colors,
Or soften the winters cold.
You can not change the things you've said,
Or the way that you have cried.
You can not make time answer to you,
For it rides it's own tide.
You can not choose to forget those you've loved.
Nor can you make someone love you more,
You can not pick and choose your experiences,
Or go back to the person you were before.
There is so little you can control in this world,
So very few things we can completely control.
And the thing that I find so incredibly sad,
Is that the things we can, we blow.

When you sit and stare at people,
As they go throughout their daily tasks,
Do you ever happen to wonder,
If the expression their wearing is a mask?
As they walk right on past you,
A smile drawn across their face,
Do you ever think that maybe,
In this world they actually feel out of place?
And when a mother catchers her child being reckless,
You watch as she speaks to him with fury,
Do you mentally chide her instantly, or wonder that if maybe,
That's her way she handles worry?
When a little girl of six,
Sits alone, watching everyone else,
Do you think that she is sad,
Or maybe that she just prefers to by herself?
So many times, so many cases,
We believe our own interpretation,
That our eyes and ears have sought the truth,
But then we learn, often too late, that they'd gathered misinformation.
Oh, all the countless times we see things,
And deem them to mean something of no such,
You would think the we would eventually learn,
Not to so quickly judge.

Born of the sun and earth
And kin to the moon and sea
Life's immensity
Exceeds humanity
And the planet needs us
No more than fleas
So don't be fooled into thinking
We will always exist
In terms of the universe
We are no more than dust

                                           By Phil Roberts

My eyes were hooked on to the West
Feasting on the riot of colors the sun had cast
I stood dazed at an experience blest
That any poet would treasure with zest

By chance I glanced at the river below
It moved like an overloaded carriage slow
With floating weeds and ***** *******
Reminding one of an ugly heap of trash

I saw partially submerged bottles bobbing on the surface
Gradually filling with ***** water perforce
And slowly sinking down to rest in peace
With their sunken brethren at the river base

Spill of oil glistened iridescent
On the face of the river florescent
Its water was far from clean
But had turned murky green

On the still surface was a layer of ****
Like rancid butter annoying anyone’s calm
Reeking smell of rotten fish and mulch
Entered my nostrils with an obnoxious stench

I closed my eyes and turned my head
And looked away from the river bed
I thought of man’s callous audacity
In assaulting Nature’s pristine vitality

I heard the river’s rising lament
And me it did acutely torment
Any sensitive soul would be left grieving
Seeing the river in such agony heaving

In the far horizon, the sky had grown into flames
I wondered if Nature was mad at man’s tall claims
Suddenly I saw with the eyes of a seer
That Dooms day is drawing near!

Me, a little girl and little words

Always seem to say

These little lines raw and unheard

Will help me get away

Into the labyrinth of my mind

Trapped in its abyss

They all see, but are blind

They all  turn and dismiss

We all fake smiles

Living in a monotone world

We all judge, are given trials

Not minding that we're unfurled

We live in endless denial

Thinking everything is fine

I slowly taste the bile

What is wrong with our minds

Being all hypocritical

But never admitting

Always being so analytical

"No, young lady that isn't very fitting"

Saying "Yes, I'll change my ways"

Only to crawl back again

Why this continual craze

We must fix our ways and mend

Cause if we don't, we'll be what we fear

We are in the nightmare, reality

Monsters, killers, death, and tears

We'll be a living dead society

Ease your way into the day.
Being Mindful is the way they say.
Focus on Now, we don’t have long.
Meditate or sing a song.
For ten long years it’s been pipe and slippers (without the pipe),
And Ages have passed since we were nippers.

Slowly we all fade away,
For time cannot be held at bay.
I wonder what it’s all about,
There has to be another way out.
We die like flowers according to science,
There is no alternative to our compliance.
We may or may not be ruled by God,
But so long as I live I don’t give a sod.

Easy days and a set routine.
Do my best to keep my house clean.
Nice pub lunches four days per week,
A peaceful living is all I seek.
You may say I’m set in my ways,
But I’m contented in my twilight days.

Paul Butters

Shhhh
Can't you just listen
Please for once
I know God gave you ears
I know you can hear
but it is so much *more than that
Please just *listen
To the sound of my voice
Take in the words
that I am saying


No
Uh uhhh
Stop right there
Can't you see I am hurting
Do you not see the pain
You do not have to fix me
Sometimes you just cannot
Please just hold my hand
Hug me
*Hurt with me

I'm throwing shadows in the dark
trying to light the wind
to create a tiny spark
as music's playing on the radio
to the sounds of a broken heart

Say the word
I'll come back
you only need a fire when it's really cold
or to heat you when your really old

Even though I'm down
just know I'll be around
to rescue you again.