I never felt alone

But, it was a fantasy.

We only know the value of someone

When we really need them.

Caught in a world of chaos

Where I see myself abandoned.

Begging myself to be normal

Who can help me, unless am not

Willing to change me

Isolation can be a choice
to go see
if anyone else
lives there.

On safari to the heart
of everything
communing with ancestral
stars being born.

finding a crowded space
the all in all
of love arriving
with the arrival of yourself.

Hey, old friend
Remember the days?
The times we got so drunk we could barely crawl
What a laugh!
Other nights we'd be so wired
We chewed our lips to shreds
And do you remember that opiated Nepalese
While the rest were throwing up or falling down
We kept right on smoking
'Til we could barely find our feet
Haha!
And then tripping out at Fool's Nook
Thinking the water in the stream was diamonds
The mushrooms weren't so magic if you got a bad one
But wasn't it fun!
Going to dodgy Manchester pubs for the gear
Haha, remember that night I nearly got myself shot?
I've never talked so fast in all my life
And now that we're middle-aged
Where are we now, old friend?
You're dead and I'm falling to bits
Such fun

                            By Phil Roberts

And still I dream of stepping back into yesterday
Where time flowed so freely golden with serenity
We would sit in pine scented grove and sip lemonade
Our talk tranquil as sun dappled creek murmuring in quiet wood
Never arguing or complaining but flooded with blissful reverie
A time bygone and peaceful, learning to know each other again
Listening to the background symphony of cicadas and katydids
Poignantly nostalgic with yearnings of bygone days
Watching velvety dusk deepen into shades of whispering night
Relishing each breeze laden with moss and murmuring pine
Anticipating the dawn awakened by drowsy robins and wood thrush
Skies east to west stained with strawberry hues and dreams renewed
And still I shall dream on

**~Hilda~

Carrying a lamp;
seeking other wanderers
lost in quests for truth.

Your skin is my sky
That contains all the stars
Your arms are a magnet
That don't let me go far

Your hair are the dark
That are my night
Your embrace is my sigh
That holds me so tight

Your lips are my water
That is so pure
Your kiss is my medicine
That have my wounds cure

Your mouth have my words
That become my rhyme
Your body is my space
That makes me forget time

Your fingers are my flowers
That are laid in your hand's park
Your neck is my canvas
That contains my bite's mark

Your eyes are my moons
That shine so bright
Your smile is my sun
That gives everything light

he sits all alone
in a smoky dusty bar
in a twilight zone of his own
he counts the neon stars

he isn't anywhere
and he isn't going anywhere

he sits by himself
as another day passes
like the bottles on the shelf
and the empty glasses

My mouth is wrapped in razor wire. The less said the better. Whole worlds are caught between my teeth. My eyes are somewhere between moons, and my nostrils breathe the mist of demons. My earlobes have the jewelry of vast continents. And my throat is strangled with amethyst tears. My hair wraps your shoulders. My pearls touch your belly. And my hands? They flutter like leaves in the wind to catch galaxies. I long to say the three words. But deserts live on my tongue.

Yet it takes only a moment to say goodbye.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 3/7/2016