There's a quiet murmuration
Of figments of my imagination
Dreams and broken notions
Feelings and emotions
Swirling and rearranging
Into ever-changing shapes in my mind

There are absent gods and howling dogs
And the broken backs of the poor
While jugglers perform tricks with wealth
As nobody seems to care anymore
Amidst marching boots as children shoot
And hope lies dead on the floor

There seems to be a ghost somewhere
Wandering high in purple mountains
And low in deep green valleys
And this roaming soul may well be
A kind of long lost truth
Inside my hidden mind

                               By Phil Roberts

I am a knight.

Not the dark from an evening sky.
Not a warrior wrapped in steel.
More like the chess piece.

My movements? Impractical.
My purpose? Undetermined.
And I'll probably die early.

How comforting.

My accomplice.
My comrade.
My kryptonite.

Make sure to bury me with my horse.
And contort our lifeless bodies into an L
So we can finally embrace what held us back.

I never told you that silence scared me
no movement
no sounds
the eternal stillness
we could linger in the calmness
stay close
hear each other's deep breaths
you barely heard me do it
I always stalled the inhales
to feel still for a moment
to suffocate
I just wanted to feel weightless
make the world stop for a minute
relax and be brought to life
for the last time
fresh and clean
silent

Paving slab sheen
Streetlamp puddle
Midnight rain