Hey mister, can you spare me a dime
or maybe just a moment of your time
I hate to admit, I'm a starving artist
maybe my choices aren't the smartest

it seems senseless starving for art
artistic integrity plays a big part
parting my ways seems so hard
hardest part is silencing my heart

hey mister, can I sell you a rhyme
it might mean something over some time
I'm proud to admit I'm a starving artist
even though these days are the hardest

The afternoon rolls in
vast summers sky across the sea
salt air breezing through
your small bungalow windows
squat quaint abode nestled
a tiny shelter shell
like hermit ***** down the shore
snuggled in.

If I could paint one picture, what our love meant to me.
I'd paint such a masterpiece, where sunset meets the sea.
Splashing vibrant colors, reds mixed in with blues.
Combining orange and yellows, all soaking in for you.
The painting placed in lovely frame, would hang and last forever.
But unlike such a special piece, we wouldn't stay together.
Each night the sun and ocean meet, once more they become one.
Our love however didn't last, the dreams had come undone.
The painting will then forever be, a remembrance of me and you.
Of how we couldn't harmonize, as a sun and ocean do.

There's something that just
takes your breath
when someone else's words
so closely echo
the sentiments
of your own heart.

Two poets connected through
black and white words
all because my mind
can read your soul's words
in my own heart's voice.

All because your soul
writes the language
that my heart
has so carefully learned.

All because two people
wrote in love.

As reckless bound beauty
belies the exhaultation
of standing on the edge
of eternity
God ! There is freedom
in the temptation of the fates
One must kiss the lips of death
to live

One says
"I'll race you to the gutter."
The other one says
"Yeah, but I'll beat you to hell."
Followed by lots of liquid laughter
And they think they're joking

                                     By Phil Roberts

Perplexed.
As I looked into his eyes, replaying the conversation in my mind...over and over again.
Studying his mouth curvature and ****** expressions, change from confidence to bewilderment. As I confronted his most recent "story".
Stumbling over words, not even remembering his own storyline, it all came to a head.
It's all a fog. The last 11 months of my life.
A tangled web of fulfillment..loss..love..pain..a seeming friendship..laughter..hurts..euphoria..
..Lies..love making..confiding..trust..deceit..
half truths..embellished stories..frustrations..
Anxiety..joys..thrills..adventures..irrit­ations..charm..
Dream making..intense loneliness.
He built walls...constructed of flowers, love notes, thoughtful gifts, candle lit baths with rose petals and love songs...all in hopes to keep me within the realm of his safety lines.
He lied to make me love him..I lied to myself into believing it was all real.
When lies become your reality..nothing stands against it..not even..the Truth.
Now I sit. Alone. In the center of the shambles of what we fabricated, fallen at my feet.
Eyes opened. Accepting the reality. Weaving through the confusion.
Hope in the unknown..the sun still continues to rise..hearts heal and Love still exists.