Poets do not
make a living;
they make a life.

The shape itself
Captures this
poem well

Love is
Down
Below
The place
we all
once
fell

How dark and long the night
Growing up in the care
Of you, my mother
Unstable and violent
With fists as fast as your hair-trigger temper
I was very young when I learned to take a punch
And fly across a room with the best of them

But you taught me to read before I started school
And you read Dickens to me for hours
Igniting my love of words and stories
But even then
The storm could crash at any time
"What a quiet, well-behaved little boy.
Isn't he shy?"

But the worst thing you ever did to me
You told a lie as big as the moon
You said that my real father, the gypsy
Was dead
When I met him, in my teens
The world lurched slightly
And never went back to normal
And the worst thing is
I was still too scared to call you a liar

                                              By Phil Roberts

Extinction

Together they sit
Watching morning rain nourish
A dying planet

Together they sit
Swallowing daily reports
Attempts to save earth

Together they sit
Feeling gradual demise
Of their own bodies

Who am I
When your joy is all I seek
Yet, your sorrow grows
From the words I speak
Your pain expands
When I beg your smile
Your tears
A river's breadth, a mile
My love surrounds you
In warm ocean waves
And drowns your soul
While I mindlessly bathe
Who am I
Who gives you all
Though all seems
Rather boldly small
When my best attempts
To lift you high
Leave you deeper
Tell me,
Who am I

He called me beautiful,
said it matter of fact.

I have grown to believe,
I have made myself learn,
that I am more than a face,
that people are more than that.

I am a soul,
I am thoughts and words.
I am a daughter of God-
And then flesh.

I don't need validation,
because it is empty.
Shouldn't need to be told who I am.

But sometime's we're weaker,
and lose sight of our centre.
He called me beautiful.
And I remembered.

It’s worse than a hunger

But we try to make it

Go away

In any way

We can think to slake it

Try to drown it

Or smoke it out

Try to fill it with food

Try to exercise every **** day

It’s still a nagging, hollow, unbearable need

I need to throw something at it!



I drank lots of water

I worked out hard

I ate some junk food

And toked in the car

I wish I could make myself

Try really hard

But I’m numb and complacent

And my flesh won’t face it



Gotta’ get back to work

Gotta’ get back to work

This night is beyond you
Just out of control
Grins and curious eyes hit you in the face
And you are staggering again
Get to the bar and try for sanity

Don't think too much
Slow down your mind
Get another drink to soften the edges
You're asking for a gin and panic
Everyone's a stranger
And everyone knows who you are
And  everyone's talking

You've seen all this before somewhere
This is some kind of reality
And you are outside of it
No-one warned you that your words
Would be taken down as used as trivia
Don't laugh, you fool
It's not that funny

And those faces are staring again
There's a table to hold on to
Something to stop you from sinking
Keep swimming through the noise
And the smoke and the eyes
And the wet mouths
And the liquid glasses
And the moving walls
And the approaching floor

                             By Phil Roberts