The first mile is tough
The last mile is the toughest
I liked the way she played with her hair
Liked her smile
She had a calming effect on me
The in between was just numb minding
Just distance for the sake of distance
Some never made it, some did
She hated cruelty
One of god's creatures
To good for me
Just to good
The body wants to give up
That little voice agrees
Just dumb for the sake of dumb
I was a dumb one
Everybody loved her
She was one of the special ones
They always take the special ones
Sometimes when the pain gets too much
I’ll run the hill
Just to see her play with her hair
It’s worth the pain

She needed the love
Like the stars needed the sky
The trees needed the rain
The passion would come later
Always later

She bled, like women do
Sometimes freely
Sometimes not
Just the first cut hurt
It was life

She needed the love
Like the fish needed the sea
The sun needed the moon
The passion would come later
Always later

She bled, like women do
Small droplets at first
Only blood
Just the first cut hurt
It was life

She needed the love
It was life
Just the first cut hurt
The passion would come later
Always later.

Hi how you doing
I’m doing fine, how about you
I’m okay, well I’m not really
Go on tell me about it, that’s what us ex’s are for.
It’s Joe.
Joe, that’ll be my replacement.
He doesn’t seem to want to do it.
When you say do it, do we mean ***.
Yes, strange isn’t it.
I don’t know, I don’t know Joe.
He’s a man, what is there to know.
Why is he not chasing you around the house.
I don’t know, what happened to us.
You dumped me.
I know, but why.
Let me see now, oh yeah, you said you wanted a ring, marriage, children, house, and a pony. I said I didn’t like pony’s. You said that’s the last straw. I said, exactly, do you know how much straw costs. You said, shut up about the straw. I said, where would we put a pony. You said, shut the **** up about the pony, shut the **** up about the straw. Do you want to marry me or not. I sort of got lost for words, and by the time I got round to saying I would love to marry you, you were away with Joe.
You’re so full of crap, you ran a mile, actually you and that pony have a lot in common, you’re both mule headed.
You’re still with Joe, did he give you a pony.
No, he gave me something else.
Frustration
It’s not all about *** you know, he’s saving himself.
That’ll be the biggest coming this year then.
I don’t know why I phoned you, you do my head in.
You need to borrow me till Joe’s ready.
No I don’t, celibacy is the in thing now.
Well in that case, I just want to congratulate on your resolve.
Are you seeing anyone.
No, I’m going through a monking phase at the moment, new habit.
So we could meet as friends then.
I don’t see why not, a friend in need is a friend in need.
I think that’s a friend indeed.
Indeed it is friend.
Should I bring a bottle round.
That would be a friendly thing to do.
You won’t mention Pony’s will you.
I won’t mention Pony’s.
Okay, I’ll bring Joe with me.
What.
I need to send him back, the post office is on the way.
Ha ha, nice one.

I've  always  been  a  ladies  man.
I  think  they  are  truly  great.
But  they  always  seem  to  die  on  me.
That  seems  to  be  my  fate.

Their  courage  and  bravery  is  unsurpassed.
Much  stamina  they  have  got.
They  seem . to  accept  things  more  than  men.
And  put  up  with  their  lot.

What  they  lack  in  muscle  power.
His  made  up  with  mental  strength.
To  fight  the  pain  of  childbirth.
They  will  go  to  any  length.

So  don't  knock  them  fellows.
They  will  always  be  there  for  you.
And  if  you  treat  them  properly.
They'll  remain  loving  kind  and  true.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

You've seen her a hundred times
With a hundred faces
But she's always the same
Always at the bar
She's there when you arrive
And she'll be there when you you leave
There beside the fullest ash-tray
Lighting another cigarette
With fluttery fidgety fingers

Her lipstick is far too red
And not quite straight
Too much make up to hide the lines
Which show all the more
As she cracks the mask to smile
Her hair is too yellow
And her eyes are long lost grey
The arc which her glass follows to her mouth
Is restless and constant

As the evening wears on
She will talk too loudly
She may even sing out of tune
She will laugh too shrilly
When nothing is funny
But sometimes
When it's late
She sheds silent messy tears
As she rocks on her bar stool
Because there's a reason
This woman at the bar
Has a story as real as any other
And it matters just as much

                                    By Phil Roberts

Lightening from a clear, blue sky.
Random firing synapses. Fluttering twitches.
A moment where the eye and I diverge.
Mind rockets in flight, morning or night.
Become a twisted ball of rubber bands. Writhe.
Avalanche of trembles. Lungs in a vise.
Devastating payload of cognitive dissonance.
How long will this horror of nothing last?
Waiting is the worst. Paralysis of time.
     Sitting on a sofa on a quiet afternoon
     Hoping for a large slice of normal, soon.

The rain washed the blood away
And for a time I became human again
Children with dead eyes
Play amongst corpses rotting in the morning sun
A father prays to some god
Hoping for a miracle
Abound by his faith
Certainly a deeper faith than mine
For the moment only the gun is god
In these quiet times
I think of people sitting at desks
Being productive
Dreaming dreams better than mine
Building a future
The survivor alarm kicks in
I've been here too long
The scene changes
The father has found his god
For a time he becomes a soldier
Two gods about to collide
One through total frustration
The other with the dimension of time
He once read a book
The romance of war
He always thought the title should have read
The two faces of war
The bullet killed him instantly
Tomorrow he would be another rotting corpse
No romance there
People at desks building futures
Children with dead eyes play in the morning sun.

She said I was history.
Then she said she would give me one more chance.
Then she said I didn’t deserve a second chance.
Then just as I was about to speak.
She said, I mean, who the hell do you think you are.
I was just about to say.
She said, this is definitely your last warning.
I was silent for a few seconds.
Well what do you have to say for yourself.
This is a wrong number.
What.
You’re not speaking to the guy you’re dumping.
Well why the hell did you let me rabble on.
To be truthful, I sort of get dumped a lot by phone, I just didn’t recognise the number.
That’s because you’re all jerks.
Well why don’t I take you out tonight to get over the ****.
Get knotted, consider yourself and the **** dumped.
Got a feeling she’ll phone back later and apologize, and then take me up on my offer, and when she gets to know me better.
She’ll definitely dump me.