standing still  looking at the moon
through the limbs of the
mulberry bush

the taste of wet on my tongue
dew I had licked from her leaf
my thirst

quenched for one moment
gathering all my senses
in all her beautiful

limbs spread bare naked
in the night the silvery
reflections on my mind

the sweetest taste  
both sweet
and natural

and her arms and cries
and her fruit mine
for that moment

the view so much a scene
of limbs and hills and
fair prairies

and bountiful gifts this
from dust creation
might be

a miracle

If I could find the connection between each raindrop,
     No matter how infinitesimal,
I know I'd be *OK

I didn't fall into disrepute
So much as occur there

                                    By Phil Roberts

fallacy dictates most of me
is psychotic chronically, the fuse was lit
but I keep spitting on it
and the theory I will go off
is predicated with anomalies of now against
then only in
the recent sense
have I noticed many similarities
to me once and me now
but there are recurring themes
familiar events like astrology
saying one day I will become
the whom I was then  I suppose

If you were granted the gift of temporary flight...

     Would you ascend...
          Just so you could feast your eyes
          on the horizon,
          beyond the confines of weather-worn tiles
          set upon unsuspecting rooftops.

     Would you take soar...
          Just so you could briefly leave the ground
          below.
          And as the land beneath you diminishes,
          all that's you tethered to your earth
          almost instantly would turn into nothing
          but specks of insignificance.

     Would you fly free...
          Just so your heart could entertain the possibility
          of being ensnared by the breathtaking
          view of the sun,
          as it rests its pompous girth upon its bed of
          clouds;
          Like a bratty king sprawled over lavish sheets.

     Would you burst through the boundary...
          That separates heaven and earth.
          Just so you could be bewitched by the full blown
          moon,
          be enthralled by the siren calls of the stars,
          and be a part of the spectacle that is the
          universe...

If you were granted the gift of momentary flight...

     Would you still ascend?
          Knowing full well that soon gravity would claim
          you with less than no pity nor remorse.
          And all that you had complacently forsaken...
          Will greet you with the harshest of punishments.



                    *I would.

dearly beloved i've gathered you here today
to remind you of the smell of your father
the warm feeling you got when he held your hands
love feels that way
like home

darlings i search for a man like my father
the same age
who felt the same way looking down on me with love
the same smell, the same warmth when he holds my hands
i search for a man who feels like home

All i want is a man on prom night who
will give me enough love to write his name on my *******
a man who will give me enough dignity to drink schnapps and not feel ashamed