Spewing seed and venom, life and death, lust and loathing, we were Marc Antony and Cleopatra
A serpent suicide and ***, poisoned ******* and choking, then we patiently awaited our rapture

When I died I watched you follow, you said "my love I will join you soon."
From your effigy, a malignant magnetic energy floated above the room
We were toxic and intoxicated, dead but full of life
Darkness ensued all but a narrow slit, brimming with shimmering light

I grew to a boy then a man scolded by harsher truths
And then I met you, my Egyptian Queen, so beauteous and full of youth
You asked me for a cigarette, I only had a joint
We smoked and spoke like Nihilists and debated "What's the point?"

For years our love grew again, one day you said to me:
"The vanguard is at the gate and the walls are under siege"
But your battles were waged with ****** not Egypt's enemies
My response rang through history with war-torn lover's pleas

Maybe these lives were insufferable, maybe I hide from the truth
That my only respite was that every night I was coming home to you
Our apartment was just too quiet, soundless and without sentiment
Nothing remained of our candle but spilt wax and the scent of it
The bathroom door was locked, "Open the door, Let me in!"
Under the bathroom's flourescent lights that serpent bit again

Here the horse munches the grass
little knowing the trots of yore
for time when lays the bricks with curse
unhinges the strongest door.

Here the horse is tethered to feed
little hearing the neighs of past
for time when crumbles sows a seed
grows new order from soil of dust.

Here the horse lazes in sun
little seeing the shadow's growth
for time when ends a period's run
buries in the walls a lover's oath.

Here the horse walks in a round
little feeling the earth's spin
for time when shrinks the highest to ground
kingdoms fall in heaps of ruin.

Blossoms billow in slow-motion
Tender petals sigh to the ground
Cushioned upon a sunny breeze
And fat bees and lazy bluebottles
Are snoring gently
Bouncing softly
From bloom to gorgeous bloom
Glad-ragged and gleaming
In their gaudiest glory

And neon dragonflies drone
Adding to the sonerous  chorus
As they skim a sweltering pool
Where carp break the surface
Idly basking in the heat
There is a blackbird clarinetting
From the top of a nearby tree
And high-summer aromas
Pervade the shimmering air
And, just for this moment
Time itself stands still

                            By Phil Roberts

Waiting for the storm
to lower its head and charge

In ozone incense of unstable air
Eons of ions ago
horned and heavy negatives
lock prey within vortical-eye
Angelic flutter of electrons struggling on--
in yellowish friction above...

“...Did I tell you?”

Love is lightning hotter than the sun!

Schism--

resolving in the only way it can
a design that cannot save itself!

Clouds roar away--
For a minute-- I think that I will too
-- along with all these words and rain

*“...and did I tell you...

how thunderstorms remind me
...of love...the way it should be

and the worship after?”

There is a rock with a red gush
At the fountain of the desert heart
It calls me by name, ohh the tainted one
Ohh dry those tears lovely one
and it burns like hot ash in a fantasy land
and all it's grace a volcanic mass
to start again on the rooted ground
Ohh dry those tears lovely one

There is a child within a lonely heart
At the certain clock of the desert hurt
It calls me by name, ohh the tainted one
Ohh dry those tears lovely one
and it burns like hot ash in a fantasy land
and all it's grace a volcanic mass
to start again on the rooted ground
Ohh dry those tears lovely one

The Port Lincoln with a headed green
reminds of all the vanished love songs
tires of doom and cages of hope
some days the rawness cascaded
burning my sole with remnant matters
in a lovely world where we aspired
with fixed attires that truly perspired

At the heart of this desert bloom
where nothingness claims attention
at the hand of the sunken gloomy sun
which prevails the dry land it scorches
unveiling all the buried emotional cases
of utter regret and unknown possibilities

At the heart of the desert bloom
where the rain fades inside the sandy dunes
casting the breeze to the barren land
with unconcern perils and derailment
unveiling all the buried emotional cases
of utter regret and unknown possibilities

At the heart of a desert bloom
on the silvery aligned amber bridge
overlooking the stratified red rocks
where guanos and snakes rest and arrest
appeasing and hissing the untold secrets

At the heart of the desert bloom
on a mounted grill of unmovable waters
lying meters deep, overlaid by the patch
patterned with blackness and debris
as a heavenly breeze whispers of beginnings

At the heart of the desert bloom
where the past was long laid and cast
painted at the end of a two year past
of prolific and demonic disengagement
on passageways where all there is moves on

This has nothing to do with the Absolute -
     this idea of God.

In childhood, God was the loving
     Father in the sky -
Outsized, sporting a flowing white beard, and
     ever attentive to my prayers.

Now, God is an abstract notion -
     transcendent and immanent,
Infinite, eternal, and
     difficult to embrace.

But all of this has nothing to do
     with God -
All these continually mutating
     mental constructs.



- fr

from the beginning of now,
new and beautiful
fields of
time
are growing
but do not rush -
the grass isn’t yet ready
for the weight of your past
and that must not be rushed either
for everything needs time
to get a little bit stronger
you are a process
too wonderful
to be rushed.
you may dream and go gently
and take as long as you need
for those fields
will never
stop waiting
for you