She rose from the waters

Of couse she was wet

Her hair mingled in moss

rigor mortis ? not yet !

I stood for cautious

My heart cried out in fear

FOOL ! don't go any closer

This is certainly most weird

She left watery footsteps

As she ascended the hill

To the abandon cemetery

Where all rested so still

There on a knoll

She spread out a cover

Sat down and awaited her lover

A screech by a cat

A hoot of the owl

And in the air

A stench so evil and foul

She rose to her feet

As he appeared in the gloom

They embraced

By the light of the moon

His eyes were live coals

His breath sulphur hot

His clothes were impeccable

His skin dried and taut

Together they sat

But there was nary a word

When he bent over and kissed her

There was a sizzling heard

He stripped her bare

of her watery rags

And they made unholy love

It sure made me gag

The clouds in the sky

How quickly they flew

The moon was so embarrassed  

That he turned blackest of blue

You are my
inner lining loneliness
earbug echoing
songs of lust and
longing
or sickeningly sweet
nostalgia that
haunts me.

At first I thought they were beautiful
a thousand tiny blinking eyes
flickering in the back
like Christmas lights
blinking at uneven intervals.

An hour or so in
I imagine the blinking lights
are red messages
coming from the outer edges
of some other solar system.

Then as fatigue sets in
they shift
same shade of red,
still blinking,
but now appearing hungry.

Seventeen hours later
and severely exhausted
my mind teases
the tip of madness
as the red blinking lights
seem like
a thousand spider eyes
ready to devour me.

Those days are still around
Right there in the eyes
Small pieces of scripture
Spiritual desperation
Down all those long years gone
Gleaming
Needing
Seething
Spitting teeth and grieving
And a child still cries
In all the bleakest nights
Within the shell of an adult
Still cries, still cries
Still prays for someone kind
To stop the shaking
And wipe away the tears
To fill the belly
To count the injuries
And fill in the forms
But nothing ever -
Somehow never -
Helps

                By Phil Roberts

Must we only dream
   of wise kings who know
that rivers must flow
   peacefully
so a woman can sing
   her children to sleep
and fathers not weep
   holding them
in grief too heartbroken
   to rage
at the violence men bring
    in this age
that should be long left
   behind us?

Dirt

Block

Wood

Basic definition

Plus space always between

As a boy always inviting

The dogs liked it

Spiders liked it

I liked it

I could see feet come and go

Hear the car doors slam

Someone asking ,Where's Tom run off to ?"

That day ,

The fight inside spilled out

Angry steps  

Yells and screams

Shouts

The sound of fists hitting flesh

Breaking bones

You crumpled to the ground

Vacant eyes staring at me

But you couldn't see

Blood began running

Hands picking you up

I could hear you

Bouncing on the back seat

The door slammed

Another opened

"Slam"

The car roared angrily

Gravel flung everywhere

Dust settled

All's quite

Did I tell you

It's cool under there ?