It takes a YEAR for planet Earth
To revolve around the sun;
It takes Neptune eighty-four Earth years
To complete a single run.
 
So if I’d been born on the planet Neptune,
I say as I’m sighing,
BEFORE I even turned ONE year old,
I’d have a good chance of dying.
 
(Yes, I know that I couldn’t LIVE
On Neptune; nevertheless,
I’m using the example to make my point.
Forgive me: I digress.)
 
Our solar system orbits the center
Of our GALAXY, the MILKY WAY.
I’m sure there’s a method of calculating
The length of a cosmic day.
 
If it takes over 200 MILLION YEARS
To revolve, then it’s very clear
That our solar system has
A very long COSMIC YEAR.
 
In fact, the last time our solar system
Was where it is right now,
Dinosaurs were walking on Earth.
If that’s not amazing, and how!
 
Clusters of galaxies also spin—
Wow! This is getting too BIG.
To figure out how much time that takes,
I need to know physics and trig.
 
Grasping the vastness of the universe
Is hard. What we must do
Is understand that time is relative
And depends on our point of view.
 
My hair—once brown—has now turned gray;
My gait is slower. It seems
The world, universe, life, and time
Are nothing but phantoms and dreams.

- by Bob B

The Waffle Iron
She left me her father came to take her home
the train left nine at night; they sat in the café
I was outside the pain of the split up was overwhelmingly
painful but I had to cry silently.
Quarter to nine they took up their seats she laughed
like she had no care in the world.
Next day I was collecting and selling empty ***** bottle
to sell at a scrap dealer I was broke and needed the money
She wrote asked if I would send the dog she missed it
and not to forget the waffle iron.

I sent the dog I loved it too, but I would do anything for her
the hope was she would come back.
I forgot the ****** waffle iron she wrote to ask for it
Didn't bother to answer, but she was persistent, so I sent
her the ****** iron

After the dreaming is over
The mind’s pilgrimage done
The rough sails, the jolly flutters
The mountains, valleys, plains
Buoyantly overcame
Then arise you, dreamer, arise
For your slumber is ended.
Fasten your boot
Pick up the scythe, take your ***
Dance in the singing wind
Plough forth, back and forth again  
In the morning sun, the afternoon heat
Don’t look about or ask of time
Plough
Until the sun faintly drowses
Then cling on to the creased coat
Dust your boot
And vanish into the darkness.

The Cake Shop
There was a small cake shop near the bath-house
If I had money went in there for a coffee and a cake
the girl behind the counter smiled I fell under her spell
and my heart beating too fast made me dizzy
Her name was Berta and the loveliest thing on earth
I must invite her out for a walk in the park.
She closed her shop at five I borrowed brother's tie and
used his after shave. Alas outside the shop stood a man tall
and handsome I walked by and into a deep shadow.
When she came out, they kissed and walked hand in hand
down the road, she said something and he laughed.
Devastated I sank to the ground and bitterly cried how stupid
I had been the burning shame, couldn't go into her shop again
had she told him about me when she laughed?
Found another place where an old lady of thirty served I felt at ease
with her, she laughed and often kissed me.
But life is not sweet chocolate I had to work and with no education
I joined the merchant navy a place for poor boys who didn't want
to work in factories, and left dreams behind. Or did I?

It's definitely still in here
Though I've not seen it for a while
It'll be in a corner somewhere
Where the light doesn't reach
But I never did get rid of it
Though I've done nothing
As a result of it lately
The thing is still integral
To my living reality
The wildness within me
Has never left
It's in a corner somewhere

                                           By Phil Roberts

Lucita clearly wasn't a beauty.
Her grade school features were unrefined,
Awkward, plain, unattractive….
(I'm trying not to be unkind.)

Her classmates loved--as many kids do--
To find people's faults and then make fun of them.
Lucita's classmates tormented her;
I know because I was one of them.

I didn't say mean things about her,
Tease her or call her a horrible name.
My silence, however, made me complicit;
Because of my silence, I shared their shame.

How often are we silent when
We see injustice right before us?
Do we fear becoming involved
Or hope that the "evil" will ignore us?

History shows what happens to people
When others stay silent and don't speak out.
Only by standing up to injustice
Can real change come about.

Lucita didn't stay long at the school.
I think her family moved away.
I'm sure the kids found someone else
To taunt, belittle, pester, and flay.

I hope that for Lucita a happy,
Fulfilling life has been her reward;
I hope the once gawky duckling
Opened her beautiful wings and soared.

- by Bob B