How's the new car goin', Mickey?
It's brilliant, man
It goes like **** off a hot tin blanket!

                                                   By Phil Roberts

there's a dead man who sits in the corner of the room and sings everyday
he looks kind of familiar, but I'm not sure
he looks kind of happy, kind of in love, kind of free
I watch him everyday, and listen to him sing
he ain't bad, I can tell by his smile, but he ain't good either
but he keeps on singing, Alleluia, and points at the man in the mirror.

Nothing drastic
Nothing pure
Noble stains
Distinct liquid drinking
Slipping and seeping
Coming calm in the world
Knowing nothing
Calling into air
Surviving
Discovery
Certain and uncertain motion
Always motion
Interior rivers pulse
Ancient wisdom
Reawakening
Slowly
Irresistably stretching
Infinitely entwined
Endlessly on

                           By Phil Roberts

Self imposed delusions
And external intrusions
Heads and hearts dislocated
Dreams and nightmares mingle

Reality has no place to call home
With outcome and direction unknown
The infectious mania drives
With weariness of political lies
Strangling the status quo

And now at last I find
My aging senses and mind
That always felt faster than the world
Are ready to be left behind

                                                By Phil Roberts

Wistfully
Wishfully
My daydream drift
Takes me eye to eye
And hand in hand
On a sunny morning
Somewhere
Settling dust
Step by step
And side by side
There's a tide close by
Responding to gravity
And gravity of sorts
Draws our souls
Fatefully
Inevitably
Together

                     By Phil Roberts