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As I recall I was five the first time I met the monster in disguise
He threw my brother's plate to the ground
He told him to eat off the floor like the dog that he was
Then kicked him while he was down
He laughed and he laughed at the spectacle taking place
And I cried and I cried for my brother’s sake

The very next morning I stared up at him from his lap
I was trying to see if it was the man or a mask

A few months later I had my answer as the man was hitting home runs
On my brother’s flesh and bones
He smiled like a jester as my brother was ******* his pants
We rode in silence to Sunday school
And I saw it happen clear as day when the monster slipped on the mask of my father
The one I knew and loved

A couple years later and a thousand more tears
My mother wept as she answered the call
The monster had drawn the last straw
As he took my brothers innocence during the night in that hotel room

Then they came like angels and whisked us away
The men dressed in suites with badges of authority
We were safe for the first time

As I look back I still miss the mask but not the man
I decided to write this poem after some deliberation and thoughts about my childhood and I hoped that if anyone is in this situation that they will understand that sometimes its okay to love someone that has hurt you as often the person is not evil all the way through but ultimately its better if they are not in your life. This was the case with my father and I still love him but I recognize that the mask that I loved was more of my own imagination instead of the actual man that he was.
I’ve got a little bird sleeping on my chest –

Breathing innocence,
Abandoned and prior pathos.

I’ve got a little bird sleeping on my chest –

Found, was her nest, but
Lost, was the feather who’d brought her.

I’ve got a little bird sleeping on my chest –

An ear nigh my heart,
And a heart I’d thought dead.

I’ve got a little bird sleeping on my chest –

And so, let the world be round,
And so let the world be perfect.

I’ve got a little bird sleeping on my chest.
For my daughter (One month old today).
The Life Of A Single Man

Sometimes we *** in the shower
We hardly ever make our beds
We clean ourselves with shampoo
Using the lather from our head

We will wear the same old socks
That we wore the day before
And don't even get us started
On how long jeans last on the floor

If the bed is made we sleep on top
Then just straighten when we get up
Do we really need to wash the sheets
If our skin they do not touch

We drink milk from the carton
Eat fast food way to much
Have pizza pie for dinner
Then eat leftovers when we get up

We want the house to look real clean
So there are rooms that we won't use
When we can write our names in dust
That's when we grab a broom

This is the life of a single man
We just do what we want to do
It is very hard for us to change
When we meet that someone new

So don't try to change us overnight
So far we have made it through
But if by chance we fall in love
We may just change for you


Poem by : Carl Joseph Roberts
I'm posting some of my favorites for my new readers. Hope you enjoy and share again if you like. Add to a few walls and help it trend.
Make New Things Happen

Make new things happen
Each and every day
Let them lead you in your life
And simply be amazed

Become a part of wonder
Stand back and watch it grow
Do great things for others
And never let them know

Make new things happen
And know you took your part
See the eyes of others
Help change their inner hearts

Don't think that it can't happen
It's all a point of view
Each day when new things happen
Make them because of you


Poem by : Carl Joseph Roberts
NFL Cleveland Rams*

They started out in Cleveland
Just some news for you
The Cleveland Rams the were called
Before they even moved

L.A. is where they grew up
Then Saint Louis they called home
But Cleveland was the very first
Just wanted you to know

The sports shows say they're going home
But we know that its not true
We sure do wish they'd come back
So we can win a game or two




Yes the original L.A. Rams were actually the Cleveland Rams.

Poem by: *
Carl Joseph Roberts  (Joe)
 May 2016 john p green
john shai
The world was determined
To be where it was that day
And so each time sinned
Was inevitable in that way

The master of puppets
Thus the plot twister
Blows the trumpets
At the evil mister

Who killed a protagonist
Then himself hanged
Thus an antogonist
Inevitably becomes determinist

When he finaly does see
He is not free to be
While the protagonist
Rises up free

Into chaos
The arms of uncertainty
 May 2016 john p green
mike dm
i guess i can do
a blue sky.
but i like mine

grey and
splayed out,
sleepily burnished -
yuh know,
that something that
brings out

monochrome feral tones,

with a few
exposed
crevices
every now and then

to polish
me off
good.
dmd
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