That's me in the middle
In the middle of the world
Just as everyone else
Is in the centre of their's
And we'll never meet
Or even live in the same climate
A thousand miles to west or east
And yet
By the grace of various miracles
Your words may move me
And hopefully, mine will move you
To defy distance and differences

                                                    By Phil Roberts

need a little me time, on green on tee time
on e with an e light, but the neon gonna be fine
at least goin to B right?  if not single speed bike
on High in the street lights
cars passin me breeze by, no rush for the green light
leaned back on this seat o mine
breathe in the season, summertime
lilac, the leaves back, tree sap
knee slacks, T-Shirt, nikes, what a time?
reading back cluttered lines, hummin rhymes
to myself and those who wander by
keep them in your spongy mind if you want some lines
they're shelved kept up in my attic otherwise

it's not easy livin dreams, just dreamin them
Constantly the reason I'm sleepin in.
should consider leaving open my shuttered blinds
so as to not wake around three pm.
but just the thought of that shuddered mind
brought distractions, wore off Elysium.
guess tonight I did fine, should go easy then
all work no plays no good for a youngins mind.

they won't catch me slippin.
my shoes are resistant,
my views are resistant.
a few anyway...
could lose grip in an instant.
to them, my truth is fiction.
to love, is all that i meant with
all my decisions. well most anyway...

some say I been distant
I just stay a safe distance.
don't take it personal, assure you that it isn't.
more security than anything.

insecurity's my middle name.
it'd be yours too if your doorbell rang
and the ring tone ****** like your cell phones drakes.
in that bell tone way.. that you hate.

but you wont change, and I won't too
til they catch me slippin like, you fell down Jake.

til the hell bound day,
when the smell hounds break.
Then I'll tell house mates,
"I'm headed to the jailhouse, bail out Jake."

Doing this and that, business getting busy,
haven't written any.

*** dreams of ex girls.
Resting to keep alive.
Dead to me in this world.
...guess not.

I do this and that
for rent and cash.

If school is what you're gettin at,
I may get back, pick up a class.
A Math or English isn't bad...
Couldn't hurt, I don't know.

I'm sittin back with Rick and Max,
relaxin after hittin turf.
Kick and pass, not hittin herb,
well that too.  Kickin back.
A fresh brew, I'm sippin black
in afternoons to focus.

Pen and pad, a middle view.
A poem, a written rap.
I'm sittin at the moment
on Youtube and itchin ***.

A migrant hits the dust.
Hits the lock key on the door and takes the bus.
Piping coffee in his gut for wit and warmth.
A bit anxious for the meeting coming up.

But he's a migrant, done this many times before.
Switched his sweats to dress the part, shirt tucked.
Another part to play so days he can afford.
Just another hustle for a buck.