it ends in tonalities of spliced ends
some woven together others
jutting into nowhere dangling
like a Dylan song you love but don't
quite know all the metaphorical meanings to
of nowheres and space probes
sent to tickle you
on your own you must believe in
something more
special spacious
put meanings into amorous
trysts space gods
mystiques
unadorned with the accepted norms
a late night sobbing alone
cats and dogs your companions now
but knowing some outer space
visciously beautiful being
is gonna haunt you soon
and fly you off to the moon making passion
without touch a beam a laser like on your ******
tickles    get it doll

not an expose
I can't Kant I
am more the Freudian type
German Heil
or the deriving deviant

I am almost subconscious
in the inner sanctities
Darwin was half right
my thumbs up
my *** constantly

bachelors are neither
happy or malcontent
moreover, they are predators

so I argue
that a priori
intuition
one must preclude
is

quality quantity relation modality
is pure nomenclature and not psyche
I feel therefore I am
is was  am again was

was an am
were an I
am a me

come on I can play

occupy the windows things
the  outside lights and fleeting visions
live like a reflection always looking out
and never in

stand in the sun and hide
from tangibles that glow in
the insides shine the
things you hide

that to everyone
are obvious like elephants
your signature your
dispositions I guess

convert and consecrations
your only sin
but you turn away when looking at the
colored glass

the cross a searing soldier told
to wipe your secondhand mind
clean and when you find
the answers I will speak in sentences

Do you still remember: the flyer flies?
And the harmonic liturgical chant of the invisible crickets
Outside our window: oh how they soothe
us to sleep : an added plus to the sound of the falling rain
of all our wishes, did we meant to leave the
tropical sound for the deafen sound of gun fire ,sirens,
or burning tires of city life, startling's hearts everywhere;
almost every hour upon hours of restless sleep

awaken to the swift sound of chirping, squeaking engine
my heart longs for those crickets outside my window
as they hide beneath the tall wet grass,
I remember how I slept between darkness and dawn
Remembering happiness comes from contentment:

Keep the innocents in the village
Don't let the children play outside
The homeless and the nameless
Must stay huddled together
Finding shelter where they can

Because there are killers high above
Dropping bombs of hatred and rhetoric
Killing and maiming indiscriminately
And the killers are from so many places
Leaders from all over the world
Whose only morality is ambition
And their only emotion is paranoia

And those who dare to disagree
Are shut up or closed down
Never to be heard from again
And those who care to notice
Are watching open-mouthed
The bloodied stump of history
Right before their eyes

                                   By Phil Roberts

a tropher found Grau
and everywhere lay his fawn
while love's artifice dig chéri
and orient this earth that desire weather

and while out on the horizon he'll dust the farm
but still pond a sparrow 'bout to splatter its bath
in a morning of lust that soon will burn off

with an intent lasting sheen
fore the hour drive to town
as his roads are the ride
amid this country has made her shine
that always ponder the air on such afternoons
only to purchase a bottle of her perfume
then pleasantly he'll puncture the throttle
with a just look in her garden.

favored memories you face faded now in spaces
of black blank places those jostled touches of
colors of hosiery ******* hung on lines that last touch
with old fashioned  wooden clips
the **** and the ******* and the line taut
between  stretched the left and right  
where dogs roam wild and nothing is washed or hung out
those fineries hidden from view now with an Aqualung
tracing his flute and deep bass
around the inside your skull
as you dance on the park bench barking ferile
unkempt flea and louse ridden crazinesses
scratching your self like that terror  
you demonized
the memory you became of that same man
who said hello
to you so long ago
and wretch throw up
so much now
it does no good