Grey and sodden clouds cry
From my north-western sky
Where I used to fly with satellites
Before I was stuck at traffic lights

I'm pretending that I'm sane
With a bandage around my brain
Pretending that I'm whole
With sutures in my soul

Tight and screaming reins
Hold the prophets in my veins
Aquarius turns again
Again and yet again

                                  By Phil Roberts

The moon and all the stars
Know how hard I tried
Though you never will
Only the sun and sky
Know my sorrow
Because I keep it to myself

As images and hopes fade
And dreams turn to black and white
The story will always be fresh
Within the heart of me

There are those who know me
And those who think they do
But no-one knows my pain
My own precious secret

                                   By Phil Roberts

See through
Tall under the sun
Crawling beneath stars
In night-time skull
Thoughts behind eyes
Behind dreams
Under darkness
And above light

See through
Pretended truths
Without words or form
Shadow shapes
Lay like death
Choreographed corpses
Meaningless memories
Damaged dreams
Piled upon writhing hopes

See through
Tender tragedy
Daily despair
Grasping at lies like air
And in the stillness of dawn
The cold of morning light
Water drips
Or maybe blood
Tapping through silence

                                     By Phil Roberts

Like an old man's years
The days are shrinking
As nights grow long and bold
Ready to own their part of the year
That's when memories
Come knocking for me

Down the trembling years
All those lives ago
I see them wide-eyed and fresh
Falling from the sun
Running too fast through life
And reaching the end too soon
Crashing through the moon
And I have lived long enough
To be part of their journey
And too long for my own

                                  By Phil Roberts

With magnificent indifference
The world swirls and eddies
And life ebbs and flows
Around my crusty head
But still this radiant illusion
Springs eternally hopeful
And leads us by the nose

Times of mysteries past flow
As the northern rain washes the days away
Into slick and glimmering colours
Without earthly reason
And this late in the season
Daffodils fade and die
And butterflies won't fly
In an awkward silent stillness

                                   By Phil Roberts

The inner spin which once spun within
Is slowly rolling on the outside
And interest wanes into a feathery sunset
Above a vague horizon

Questions cascade into a mist of dreams
Without purpose or need of answers
There are other things to do
I'll smile if you want me to

Standing alone by a closed window
Just watching nothing happen
Writing on the misted glass
Slowly falling
Away

                              By Phil Roberts

Did you take your soul to a land
Where those with hope do not linger
And apprenticeships have been served
With cuts and broken fingers

Oh these days of hardships swell
Cries the mother with howling baby
Who would care and who would dare
To risk their spare change lately

And now you walk on broken stones
With your feet wrapped in newspapers
But they say it's alternative news
Perhaps you'll learn the truth later

So is this the place your soul should be
In this land of hate and anger
Where you would place your fragile fate
In the hands of a stranger

He may be God he may be not
He could be a fallen angel
In this land of decay and rot
Who would trust a stranger

                                           By Phil Roberts