Said the king to the colonel,
'The complaints are eternal,
That you Irish give more trouble
Than any other corps.'

Said the colonel to the king,
'This complaint is no new thing,
For your foemen, sire,
have made it A hundred times before.'

Hoods up,
Huddled in groups,
Cheap phones blare fuzzy tunes
but we'd mosh to it anyway.

Winter months' wet weather
brought more to our shelter,
We'd skate, paint and
be anti-social together.

Our multi-story temple
to forsaken adolescence,
Smoke, drink, theft, ***.
Party for free, plan the next.

Our weekends were spent
surrounded by concrete,
We'd hide from our problems
where only we could find us.

One night at the top, nine o' clock,
A chorus of ringing church-bells knocked;
I held her close as we looked upon the city,
Skystruck teens getting dizzy.

It'd be a lie if I said I didn't cherish
some of these ******* memories.
Nostalgic ache is a beatific bane,
Good times are never in vain.

I see her in the morning.
I think of her in the night.
And all the hours in between,
She enslaves my very sight.

Her shiny black hair
Is like silky waves of night.
Her deep blue eyes
Are portals of mysterious light.

Her smile is magnificent.
Her teeth are always glimmering.
Her body is phenomenal.
Her laughter is always ringing.

She has a corner office.
I have a corner store.
I await the moment every morning
When she opens up my door.

She is perfect
In every single way.
All she has to do
Is everything I say.

She's married with children.
I'm single with none.
She seems so intense,
But maybe she's the one.

She'll be here soon.
What do I do?
I've absolutely, positively
Fallen for Sue!

I'm a fool!
I've fallen into a trap.
Help me find my way.
Can you lend me a map?

She is intoxicating.
She's out of her mind.
She follows me home
And tries to be kind.

She rearranges my furniture.
She decorates my house.
She adores this little puppy
That looks like a mouse.

She whispers and gossips
And whistles and prances.
She sends everyone into
Their own kind of trances.

She tasted better
Than Blueberry wine.
But she sure did crush
This little heart of mine.



Written by: Andrew D. Robertson

They moved in back in 1956
New lovers, New breath, New life
A New house. Yellow and white shutters,
The lake in plain view, sloped lawn.
Children came forth, grew, left
Dandelion seeds on a wind's ride.
They planted a tree in the back
It grew as they shrunk. The wife died.
Dad can't stay on his own, we must
Find him a home. We're too busy, Susan
and Bill just had a baby. Put him on a shelf
In the closet. For sale sign comes up.
Old money young couple in a Black SUV.
The white shutters should be blue. The yellow
Is an off color. This tree in the back simply
Won't do. It blocks the view. It must come down.
Memories rot and rust and are painted over
The stain in the carpet where she spilled her wine
That one night when they had a little too
Much to drink, they fell into each others
Arms. Rip out the carpet.
The tree must come down.

It's not fair, it isn't fair
But with such a heavy glance of despair
You break me you mold me
I can't help but hold an overwhelming love for thee.

My poetry isn't bland, simple, or plain.
It's beautiful, a mess, and all sounds the same.
I use the same pattern, beat, and rhymes,
Eventually it will be used one too many times.

I am fighting the urge to love you so pure
God help me I have a poison and you are the cure.
Ignore me, push away, leave me to a thought.
It makes me miss you so much that I rot.

I'm a tree in the wind, I push but do not break
Will loving you turn out to just be a mistake?
Sometimes it's perfect and you're my closest best friend,
Other times it's like it was all just pretend.

It's not fair for me to desire your full attention,
And the sorrow in my soul is beyond comprehension.
I will never forgive myself, and you shouldn't either
I understand you need a break, your heart needs a breather.

I feel so worn thin, so little butter over too much bread
These thoughts and emotions must get out of my head.
What do you want can't you make yourself clear
But please don't tell me it's what I fear.

It's a sick sort of enjoyment, I get from this life,
It's hard to accept you seeing anyone else as a wife.
But that's what it's come to and that's my fault too
I just hope she makes you happy and her love is true.

You told me have patience to see if it's in my favor
I know I've had inexcusable behavior.
You probably didn't see that it was about you and I,
Waiting to see what you choose makes me want to die.

The heaviest burden I ever have bore,
I'm so sorry for that time, your heart, I tore.
It makes me feel ill to think about my choice,
But you don't understand, he stole my voice.

I won't talk about him because he isn't what I want,
Will my choice forever be over me, a ghost that will haunt?
I'm so sorry my dear, I'm so sorry my precious love,
You always treated me like a gift from above.

And sometimes I think about how bad is the pain,
When the person you love does not love the same.
Then I recall yet again what I did to your heart,
I wonder if it would be best, if I just chose to depart.

I get so beyond torn when I try to decide
Because no matter what, I won't leave your side.
Sometimes it just hurts too much, I have to write it out,
It comes it waves and I'm sorry for my doubt.

I'm sorry for the way my emotions turn and twist,
I never want you to have to deal with this.
I'm such a mess and I want to tell you all that I feel,
But I fear if I do, you will leave, and my nightmare will be real.

Oh my oh goodness me this has turned into a mess,
I can't form my words even when I try my best.
I'm sorry if this isn't clear, doesn't help, or bring peace,
I have no one to talk to, it just sits and festers, this is my release.