From morning to dawn
Whipping mixing baking smelling
Handfuls of what I can't resist
To give
My love for you
Only to see you
Munch it away
The cutest sight
Why
Feeding you feels
So satisfying?

Scribble the feeling underneath my skin
The words don't pour out of me like
Rain I live in this constipated emptiness
Swallowed my voice which knows not
Which route to take led by feeling-less
Senselessness  
Scribble them down and pain me
Into feeling like I exist
Wake me up
I have been asleep
Lost in the nightmare of
Hurtful confusion

Give up your muse
of mediocrity
Throw him to the wolves

Let him roast on the spit
of your whirring pen
laugh without mercy:

"You guided me to this place,
Miscreant
Now I'll show you where to go."

The ink stains your hands
You, Lady Macbeth,
but instead of washing

use it to tattoo
the truth
all over your face

I live on the Hurdsfield Estate
To the north-east of town
Set on the edge of the countryside
And at the foot of the hills
It's idyllic in many ways
But with a character of it's own

For a start there's the H.A.T.
Which stands for
The Hurdsfield Assault Team
Which has existed for generations
With sons following fathers
They see themselves as protectors
Of the place where they live

There was one memorable instant
When two policemen entered the flats
To arrest someone several floors up
The H.A.T. boys gathered around
The unattended cop car
Whilst someone blocked the lift
They bounced and bounced that car
Until they turned it on it's roof

Now, I don't know if this is true
But it's said that Santa won't come here
Apparently, the last time he did
Before he got back up the first chimney
His sleigh was on bricks
And half the estate were eating venison
But as I said
That's just what I heard

                                   By Phil Roberts

I have eyes
But I don't see what I don't like
I have ears
But I won't hear what I don't want to hear
I have a memory
But only remember what's convenient
I have thoughts
But I keep them in safe cages
I have a mind
But I refuse to change it

And so, you see

Let rhetoric over-rule logic
Let fake news obscure truth
Let corruption replace propriety
Let bluster confound reason
Let nepotism overcome merit
Let democracy be obliterated
As long as I don't have to admit I was wrong

                                              By Phil Roberts