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.

Did you have a place
As a child,
A spot to hide
For a little while,
Until your fears could subside?
A shack, a tree, a copse or cubby,
A niche away
From your toils and trouble.
Reach back through the mists of time,
Re-visit that place and there you'll find
The peace you found
When you were a child.

A simple poem,
Of an Algernon mind,
Once great now low,
Every day I simply love,
A little less.

There is no light,
In this dim earth.
I'm six feet under,
Breathing dirt.
No need to fight.
For what it's worth,
I'm comfortable,
I am a worm.

Yet I squirm,
Vulnerable
When unearthed.
I burn, in a world
I never got to know.
I writhe, with no control.
I yearn, for a hole.
I am a worm.
I belong in the dirt.

-SLuR