Eating a tub of mirages, I await
the rush of sugar coated bliss.
            temping these little pills of silencing
the rights of a perturbed perceptions...

Ruination as charred memories linger
            on every pill sinking with the ship...
I feel the need to tell someone
about my bitter pills of fate,
         I just drowned voices inside a bucket.

My sorrows were ducks and I just played the
            love call of expiration,
Now they linger apart feathers dissolving in the wind..

the skin of morning heavy
on windows, floors & mugs
blue-eyed wolves trace the scent
the fragility of life in indifferent forests
uncovered shoulders near the wind
slowly absorb the horizon, the new common sense
dozens killed killed killed
killed by bombs, cars,  trucks, guns, knives
hatred grows like mislettoe
the sky an endless empty whole
the same heresy errected with fresh blood

a winter born forgetting
some hands without fingers
some children cry
some wounds have no cover
the blanket of darkness sweet
hate grows like mislettoe, remember

it must be that
I woke up on the wrong side of the
moon hide tonight

They linger outside my room I hear them exhale
as the paint peels like snow flakes falling slowly
to the floor. Its only wood mahogany it think,
"nice, cost enough. I heard them mauling the
surface cleaving at different points as if a weakness
was to give way.

They bait me to see if I would gaze upon the shadows
that linger just past the door... I touch one with my
finger seething discomfort carries over my skin.
Murmurs sing lullabies at the corner of the hinges
they seem to get hotter with every tone that settles down.
I cant seem to contemplate its words, but it sings.

I look around my sheltered room, the windows are just
a look out to nothingness, I am like a flower in need of
sunlight to blossom.  but I am withered I'm suffocating
with my own deliberation. Have you heard the same
thought repeated in angles you never realized were
possible, every word deconstructed and syringed within.


Do you realize that a room even though with its formed
angles becomes nothing but a blur, patterns in writings
that migrate along my sight of vision. I'm a mine canary
trapped in a cage, and my only escape is the wishful thinking
of when will this gas seep within and silence my yearnings.
But I still breath, they mould the features of my prison in whispers.

I throw my features in random rotations to find even a
fissure that will be a keyhole to my eventual releasing.
But where my essence tries to evacuate they burn my
sanity and I scream in oscillating repetition and they just
seem to think nothing of my afflictions. I am a prisoner
within their walls. I will consume them when they fall.

Simple Death

Where there was an aura of life now
it descends into emptiness.
A husk of wishes that lay rotting in an
empty cavity, maggots consume thoughts.
We are but a sheet that showed our life's
struggles, but now it is like ash on bone.

Complex Death**

My Breath is the stench of a departed
moment yet this husk still expires yearnings.
Desiring the inevitable but the tread is taut
not frayed as one would petition in haste.
My pain is versed on this carcass of flesh
that needs to evaporate into echoes of yesterday.

Death patiently files his nails
And smokes a casual cigarette
Grinning and eyeless
He says so calmly
"Catch you later
Brave little dreamer"

Despite such brittle certainty
Men and women build
Despite such small mortality
Every space is filled
In the midst of death's destruction
Men and women build again

Fear, like a cringing bowel
Exudes an acrid stench
And whimpers and whines
Simpers and cries
"Don't you dare
Don't you ever dare"

Despite this clinging dread
Some will need to dare
Despite the bursting head
Dreams insist on birth
In the midst of our stupidities
Something wondrous strives

                                    By Phil Roberts

They speak in riddles snakes who desire your comfort.
Who bleed the foolish to believe in hopes far to great to be anything more than empty promises

The heat lighting promises a storm soon so very soon they will understand .


The night seemed darkest when embraced by thought.
Silent they slither were wolves simply howl.

Black smoke on the mountain
bends over the moon like flies
around rines all fed up
with the night, like a bloated
face floating by in the river
sleeping through
death's long montage,
that dark mistress sipping
gin on a balcony with no wind,
her curtains still as a blanket
placed over the drowned.

Coldness, I have watched you
in the shadows,
and you have given me mine
from time to time, awake
I slumber down paths
of moss and who knows what all
darkness we can gather
one at a time, but not one soul
can make a bouquet from another
soul, it is too cold to be dreaming
and there is no place for the duelist,
the two of us, lovers of black clothes
and fairly good looking women,
it is almost winter and the wind
is my second, wearing a dark cloak,
breathing in the dead eyes
of my brother, how they shine
and listen to him sing that sad song
will you, while gathering snow
and turning darker than starlight.

Screaming with no words
So **** loud nobody could hear
What was said that you would hear? Only an echo from a mouth
To, and through your ear