two things
we can give our children:
roots and wings

We live beneath the shadows of the Gods
And carry the world upon our backs
Tightly bound together
We exist,
Only for each other.
Our days are spent under brilliant suns
And fading stars,
We can disappear like mist.
Out running seasons
We die on our feet
So our spirits fly free.
We are beauty
And we leave our past behind.

The truth is ...
Life is perfect,
With no problems that conflict.
Though naturally, improvements take effect.

The truth is ...
Nothing needs to be different,
Although everything in moment
Constantly changes and becomes different.

The truth is ...
Nothing is lacking in me.
Every moment is as it should be.
Evolving into what I am, paradoxically.

The truth is...
Life is fragile,
My body a mere vessel.
However, I am eternal,
Divine consciousness in spirit.
Although, I am not always aware of it.

The truth is ...
My nature is goodness.
Although that is not always my experience.
God made me always lovable.
These truths are immutable.

Better days are a memory of the past,

better days are a hope for the future,

better days are todays sunset and tomorrows sunrise,

a better day just needs someone to make it.

Lost games
Longer lost rules
Night-time crimes
Lungs full
Of pungent smoke
Bellies full of *****
And heads full of
Something
And nothing

A kind of homage
To a kind of music
Riding across vinyl
And even crackling shellac
And the dead man's foot
Still taps inside the coffin
Refusing to relinquish
The hard-wired hammer
The outlaw life
Is hard in the dying

                                    By Phil Roberts