I close my eyes and I see you
As little more than a babe in arms
With the biggest gummy grin ever
Sitting on my knee and laughing
As you head-butted me in the chest
Pictures I'll never forget

And then the last time I saw you
Struggling to breathe and barely conscious
Tended by your loving wife
We'd said our goodbyes and "love yous"
We'd hugged when we still could
And I watched you dying of cancer

                               By Phil Roberts

Here I am again
Returned from fighting with Fate
And being soundly thrashed
I find it's time to look around
To assess the damage done

So, onward and upward I go
Chip-on-shoulder firmly in place
And tongue just as firmly in cheek
I find there is much nourishment
For my over-developed sense of the ridiculous

                                    By Phil Roberts

See that man with trembling hands
And a distracted look in his eyes
With his head ticking slowly
He is falling and tumbling
Inwardly
Inside himself
Rolling and bumping
Faster and faster
And when at last he falls no more
He shatters and scatters
All across the floor
Gone

                    By Phil Roberts

When young hearts break
Tears fall like blood from an open wound
And it feels as though Life itself must end
But, of course, it never does
Despite despair's certainty
Everything carries on as before

And when a dearly loved one dies
The soul- scraping pain inside
Would wrench sobs from rocks
Life will never be the same
That pain will always remain
Though the world continues to turn

Blood and tears soon dry
Whoever may bleed or cry
Everything passes along with time
Rivers flow in just the same way
As sure as night follows day
There is no mercy in nature's way

                                    By Phil Roberts

My demons and me
Co-exist uneasily
With blind intent
And nothing meant
They still influence my reality

Howling at night
And ready to fight
Endlessly restless
Hopelessly hopeless
On the edge of taking flight

As years go by
Old tears dry
My steps become slower
The sun sets lower
And demons still colour my eyes

                                    By Phil Roberts

My blood ran hot and fast
And my lungs were still full bore
With limbs as supple as water
And joints that never ached
My body could be relied upon
For the rigours of life and more
I had muscles that were hard
And other things as well
I could see without wearing glasses
And the mills hadn't ruined my ears
Throughout those happy years
It never occurred to me
That it wouldn't stay that way

                          By Phil Roberts

The night people seep away
Like water into soil
Neither noticed or followed by anyone
Road sweepers remove the night's detritus
Ready for the city's full awakening
When the rushing crowds shall emerge
Surging tides of humanity
Never speaking to each other
With heads down and hidden eyes
On their way to another day
Worker bees in skyscraper hives
Growing old and growing ulcers

Amidst the canyons Between these buildings
Leaning into the buffeting wind
Two young lovers are seen
Little more than children
Carrying their innocence between them
Hurrying away from here
This harsh and angry place
Believing only in each other and love
Leaving the metropolis behind
Their names are Hope and Joy
And this is no place for them

                                By Phil Roberts

Listen more than you speak
And say less than you know
Avoid those who would drag you
Into their masochistic melodramas
Stay out of other people's battles
Until you know the reason for the war
You may find yourself on the wrong side
Far better on no side at all

Be aware of those that need you
And those that are needed by you
They may not be the same people
Though both are important to you
Choose your real friends with care
And let your enemies choose you
With equal care and some trepidation

When alone in the darkness
Watch the movements of shadows
And in the broad light of day
Watch every thing in view
Whatever you see may be good or bad
But it would be foolish to miss anything
Miss not one thing at all

                                            By Phil Roberts

He never worries
No not him
I have to do it all
Chasing everything up
Making sure things get done
Reminding everyone of everything
He just wonders about
Not a care in the world
Leaving it all to me
All the worry
And then, suddenly
Just to wrong foot me
He does something kind and thoughtful
The *******!

                          By Phil Roberts

There's a quiet murmuration
Of figments of my imagination
Dreams and broken notions
Feelings and emotions
Swirling and rearranging
Into ever-changing shapes in my mind

There are absent gods and howling dogs
And the broken backs of the poor
While jugglers perform tricks with wealth
As nobody seems to care anymore
Amidst marching boots as children shoot
And hope lies dead on the floor

There seems to be a ghost somewhere
Wandering high in purple mountains
And low in deep green valleys
And this roaming soul may well be
A kind of long lost truth
Inside my hidden mind

                               By Phil Roberts

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

There were four of us
Roger, Linda, Roy and me
All smoking too much
Banter and chatter fluttered
Roger was quieter than usual
But I think he was decades in the past
Nevertheless, as we smoked more
He got into the swing of things
As the clock's hands moved on
We were just killing time

At last we decided it was time
And we all piled into Linda's car
As we reached the end of the road
The hearse slowly drove across us
Then we saw the guitar on the coffin
His crazy old pink stratocaster
And the years softly fell away
In that wooden box lay our old friend
Memories of his twisted humour
The way he held his arms when he laughed
The way he played that pink guitar
And his wild imagination
All gone forever

                          By Phil Roberts

Days of dawns and sunsets
When every hour is full
And every moment has a purpose
Measures of our small lives
Tick tock
Mortality's clock

Outside of ourselves
The crescendo and cadence
Universal movement and momentum
Always and endlessly
Travelling circles and orbits
The ghastly vastness of infinity
Defies human imagination

And yet
Our speck of existence
Tiny though it is
Is all that the cosmos owes us
And we should use it well
Wring every second dry
Open our hearts and minds
And fill them with living

                                        By Phil Roberts

I have little thought for these days
As the future evaporates
And the past grows fat and vivid
I amuse myself with games of flashback
Faces and places flickering
Across an empty mind
Dragging their stories behind them
Dead memories metamorphosing
Into living visceral dreams
Where the flowers of love and loss
Are intertwined so closely
That with the passing of time
They each rob the other
Of some pain and glory
As reality gives way
To a realisation of truth

                                      By Phil Roberts

There's a shower of rain
Yet the sun still shines
There must be a rainbow
Somewhere

An old man nods in his chair
He came from nowhere
And went nowhere else
Journeying all the way

Now he journeys through time
Down the aching years
Things that he's seen and done
Some good and wondrous
And some of them terrible

An old man nods in his chair
Travelling
Behind closed eyes
All the things he's seen and done
The people he's known
All the things he's said
Within his nodding head

Tears pour down his face
Down the canyons grooved by time
And yet he smiles
Gently and softly
There must be a rainbow
Somewhere

                       By Phil Roberts

I turn my face to the light
But the low winter sun
Is shrouded in unmoving clouds
Offering no warmth at all
The trees are stark and naked
Like jagged skeletons
With ragged crows hovering
And the world is breathless

For this winter
This of all winters
The air is crowded and heavy
With the ghosts of the painful dead
Their accusing eyes searching
For those whose negligence
In the blast of a plague
Caused their breathless deaths

                                         By Phil Roberts

The cold steel blue sky
Gathers silence to her
As she prepares to don her widows weeds
The creeping black of night
Crawling all over the land

And hidden inside this blackness
Dreams drift and float
Invisible and upon unseen currents
Restless and searching
For a mind to nourish

Bright within the night
Is a new-born infant
A baby human too young to see
And dreams find their way
Into the open mind of the child

So visions from beyond and past
A million unseen horizons
Where hopes and beliefs are formed
Give light behind unseeing eyes
Making them see wonders

Then the dawn arises
Flooding the land with light
Overwhelming the light within
Burning away at originality
Making the child just one more

Fight for your originality
Because in the end
It is all that we are


By Phil Roberts

A simple man is what I am
I went to no university
Or college of theology
And no doubt that's why I'm confused

It occurs to me, when we see
Leaders and generals of all countries and creeds
Celebrate their victories with smiling pride
Shouldn't they be weeping with shame
For all the innocents who've died?

They all believe that their god is on their side
And quite often, the same god at that
All down the ages, our venerable sages
Have killed, tortured and oppressed each other
In the name of the wishes of god

Now I'm just an ignorant sinner
So can someone please explain
What kind of god do these people believe in
That needs the destruction of his own creations
And all in his holy name?

                                                          ­­­  By Phil Roberts

So many human beings
Falling through the cracks of society
Parts of every generation
Simply lost
And as the cracks grow wider
More and more fall through
Falling into despair
They exist
Lost from the rest

And within their lives
They have little of anything
As others seem to have it all
Naturally they grow restless
Believing nothing will change
And the younger angrier ones
Become faithless and lawless
Becoming darkly feral
So many human beings
Lost

                          By Phil Roberts

Lost games
Longer lost rules
Night-time crimes
Lungs full
Of pungent smoke
Bellies full of *****
And heads full of
Something
And nothing

A kind of homage
To a kind of music
Riding across vinyl
And even crackling shellac
And the dead man's foot
Still taps inside the coffin
Refusing to relinquish
The hard-wired hammer
The outlaw life
Is hard in the dying

                                    By Phil Roberts

Days of dawns and sunsets
When every hour is full
And every moment has a purpose
Measures of our small lives
Tick tock
Mortality's clock

Outside of ourselves
The crescendo and cadence
Universal movement and momentum
Always and endlessly
Travelling circles and orbits
The ghastly vastness of infinity
Defies human imagination

And yet
Our speck of existence
Tiny though it is
Is all that the cosmos owes us
And we should use it well
Wring every second dry
Open our hearts and minds
And fill them with living

                                        By Phil Roberts

I do not speak in sombre tones
Not for me the gentle echo
Hushing through hallowed halls
I shall growl my way to the grave
Be ****** to the insignificant
And to hell with the indifferent
There are no rules or rulers
There are only fools and foolers

I need no-one else's straight lines
I have imagination enough to swerve
And spite enough to spin
Snapping snarling and seditious
Spitting venomous and vicious
Flamed by the world's injustice
And humanity's indifference
Not until I am dead burned and scattered
Shall I rest assured

                                By Phil Roberts

Living in his feral mind
Always travelling twisted roads
He knows about right and wrong
But he's a very sharp man
And he's noticed who say to do right
Quite often do wrong
So he doesn't take it too seriously

He just does what feels good to him
Without worrying much about others
There's a trail of friends and lovers
Left in careless disarray
As their usefulness to him wanes
He moves on to the next toy


But you can't really blame him
How can you stay angry?
He's just like a little boy
Who doesn't know any better
His eyes charm the birds from the trees
And his smile is as wide as the sea
So that's alright, then

                             By Phil Roberts

Caught in the coils of indifference
It's so hard to want to care
About anything much
Even my flow of poetry
Has become a problematic prostate dribble
Such are the joys of old-fartdom
Come day go day
Wishing my aches and pains away
Life goes on

I remember things that used to worry me
What was I thinking of?
None of it mattered
Young people take the poses that once were mine
And they make me smile
With amused fondness and nostalgia
I am envious of their innocence
But mostly their energy
I need a nap
Life goes on

                           By Phil Roberts

Hello
It's me again
It's the early hours and I'm slightly drunk
And it's me again

He has the sins of his mind
Which keep him warm inside
Amidst the weary and the wasted
Such warmth keeps him alive

Restless
I've always been restless
I hate to move yet I can't sit still
Hours are endless

There is a thrush inside his head
An agony of wings
Panic beaten thrashing
A cage of singing things

Anxious
Still always anxious
Even though I've slowed right down
This edge is ageless

Laying low and watching
A million sub-plots hatching
Paranoid and paranormal
He scatters to survive

                                     By Phil Roberts

When I was still young and fresh
A million years ago
I walked on edges
Always on the edge of something
Something wild

Bright lights and long nights
Lots of laughter and music
Always music
Singing with the band
Dodging the flying glass
When fights broke out
Howling to the moon
Oh, wild indeed were we

All shadows now, alas
Visions from an addled brain
Pubs, clubs and smoky dumps
Leave no turn unstoned was the cry
More fun than fundamental
And fundamentally flawed, it was
A couple of hours sleep 'fore the day job
With eye-lids stuck together
And walking into walls
But still I wouldn't have swapped it
For all the strait laced straight faced
Wealth in the world

                                 By Phil Roberts

The place I came from was known locally
As Apache country
Later to become the Lebanon
I guess you get the drift
Even to this day
Taxis are loath to go there after dark
And nobody blames them

Everybody smoked back then
And most men got drunk too often
Women might get a little merry
When weekend came round
Most men hated their jobs
And many women hated their lives
But everyone carried on
Because it had to be done

In the streets I learned every swear word
Long before I started school
In a place where "****** this"
And "****** that" and worse
Were everyday parlance
Nobody ever mentioned "love"
Oh, don't get me wrong
I know that there was love around
But I only ever heard it mentioned
In the words of popular songs

                                              By Phil Roberts

There's a shower of rain
Yet the sun still shines
There must be a rainbow
Somewhere

An old man nods in his chair
He came from nowhere
And went nowhere else
Journeying all the way

Now he journeys through time
Down the aching years
Things that he's seen and done
Some good and wondrous
And some of them terrible

An old man nods in his chair
Travelling
Behind closed eyes
All the things he's seen and done
The people he's known
All the things he's said
Within his nodding head

Tears pour down his face
Down the canyons grooved by time
And yet he smiles
Gently and softly
There must be a rainbow
Somewhere

                       By Phil Roberts

The cold steel blue sky
Gathers silence to her
As she prepares to don her widows weeds
The creeping black of night
Crawling all over the land

And hidden inside this blackness
Dreams drift and float
Invisible and upon unseen currents
Restless and searching
For a mind to nourish

Bright within the night
Is a new-born infant
A baby human too young to see
And dreams find their way
Into the open mind of the child

So visions from beyond and past
A million unseen horizons
Where hopes and beliefs are formed
Give light behind unseeing eyes
Making them see wonders

Then the dawn arises
Flooding the land with light
Overwhelming the light within
Burning away at originality
Making the child just one more

Fight for your originality
Because in the end
It is all that we are


By Phil Roberts

I have little thought for these days
As the future evaporates
And the past grows fat and vivid
I amuse myself with games of flashback
Faces and places flickering
Across an empty mind
Dragging their stories behind them
Dead memories metamorphosing
Into living visceral dreams
Where the flowers of love and loss
Are intertwined so closely
That with the passing of time
They each rob the other
Of some pain and glory
As reality gives way
To a realisation of truth

                                      By Phil Roberts

When the nights are endless
Full of time and space
I imagine the journey
Beyond roads and geography
And sometimes
I almost touch a beauty that can't be seen
And hear music from beyond our ears

My mind grasps for unknown stories
With endings not yet imagined
Meanings as yet undisclosed
For when nights are endless
I long for the truths that hide therein
Silently and invisibly
And I reach for the mysteries
That defy and deny us


                                          By Phil Roberts

I left so much behind
In those places and times
I still see the faces
Though I can't remember names
So long ago
So much has happened
All trickling through ghostly fingers
Pictures in black and white
Life in many tints and hints of grey
Some walked into the sky
With memories trailing and fading
Such memories make up a life
Create a past
Become what we are
Until we walk into the sky

                                             By Phil Roberts

As I lie here
With eyes closed softly
I think deeply of you
And I inhale stars
The scent of twinkling light
So fresh and alive
Sparkling gentle inside me
And I want to write this feeling
So tentatively
As it must be
Like writing words on bubbles
Delicate and precious
Begging them not to disappear
Like dreams in the morning

                                        By Phil Roberts

On wheels
On the road
Off our heads
City bound
Let's go bro
Let the adrenalin flow
In search of narcotics
On Devilment Row
Where the good don't go

Here dealers compete
In a threatening way
And if you're not bold
You better not stay
Young joeys surround you
On the carpark
But you ignore them
And head inside
The deals are better in there
Though the risks are higher
Amidst the heavy hitters

Thirty or forty
To pick and choose from
What ya sellin'?
What ya deals like?
Everyone's suspicious
And everyone's armed
There are people murdered
In this part of town
And nobody blinks an eye
And you know that when
You're that close to death
You feel so very much alive

                                     By Phil Roberts

When I was a young man
A heedless headlong consumer of life, was I
Above and beyond the norm or necessity
I wore paths deep and wide
To the pleasure centres of my brain
And I rode my soul like an easy *****
Oh happy daze of hedonism
How sweet life tasted then

If there was drink to drink
We drank it
If there were songs to sing
We sang them
If there were fights to fight
We fought them
We had fast feet and faster wits
If there was hell to raise
We raised it
Excess and adventure in equal parts
How fast, how high we flew back then

And then the magic playground
Became a bleak and dangerous place
Peopled by predators and prey
In an ever changing food chain
And I was only one step away
From the totally oblivious
One brain cell ahead of
The permanent reality challenged
Then friends began casually dying
Barely noticed in the rush to join them
Now the race is on
And I have grown old and slow

                                              By Phil Roberts

We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........

Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life

Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all

And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away

                    By Phil Roberts

Lost games
Longer lost rules
Night-time crimes
Lungs full
Of pungent smoke
Bellies full of *****
And heads full of
Something
And nothing

A kind of homage
To a kind of music
Riding across vinyl
And even crackling shellac
And the dead man's foot
Still taps inside the coffin
Refusing to relinquish
The hard-wired hammer
The outlaw life
Is hard in the dying

                                    By Phil Roberts

All of the shining mad ones
With their heresies of reality
And other visions and other voices
Are not diminished
By the multitude of choices
That is their truth
Upon each waking day

They are woken by the howl
From beyond the first ear
And into the deeper mind
Where there is other language
And blinding colours of emotion
For madness has the purity of pain
That martyrs can only long for

                                           By Phil Roberts

Edges of shadows
In the corners of eyes
Too fast to see
It might be me

Is it true
What you see?
Is it real?
Is it really me?

You do not hear my voice
Or know the colour of my eyes
You would not know me in the street
Or recognise my accent
Should we meet

And yet
You have seen my soul
In the words I write
And even the spaces between them

Those who care to look
Can know my story
My frailties
My vulnerabilities
My reality

This may be my curse
And my gift to you
Whatever it may be
You know that it is true

                                   By Phil Roberts

If rock concerts came first
Would churches have been needed?

                                       By Phil Roberts

I have moved to a different drum
With odd and peculiar rhythms
Dancing awkwardly through life
On my two flat clumsy feet
It is not the way I chose
To step on innocent toes
But the wildness of my dance
Has had no easy flow
The blame lies entirely with me
It's a genetic thing, you see
I am no more than this
The son of the gypsy's kiss

                                By Phil Roberts

There are no Apaches
With flaming arrows and piebald ponies
There are no writhing jungles round here
There are no lost temples
Hiding untold treasures

There are no damsels to be rescued
By a knight on a white charger
There are no pirates on the high seas
No skull and crossbones flying
Above a deck bristling and glistening
With cutlasses and flintlocks ready
And hook hands and black eye-patches
In the sunlight of the Spanish Maine

There are no interplanetary wars
With hand-held laser guns
And weird creatures from strange worlds
They just do not exist
I learned this when
I was very very young
And I really wanted to be a pirate

                                    By Phil Roberts

Misty words billow in the cold
Pluming from their mouths
Quiet swearing and first *** coughing
They walk close to hedgerows
Kicking the dew from the grass
As birds squabble over breakfast
And mushrooms are still socialising
They whistle the dogs to heel
All panting and wagging tails
Stirring the dawn damp air
For happy is the early dog
In these sumptuous fields

Now the business of dawn begins
Low sharp commands are uttered
Bringing the younger bounding learners
To a proper sense of purpose
And that high-toned cross breed
The sleek and swift lurcher
Is eternally proud and primed
This long-sprint racer
Takes inevitable chase
Without sentiment or concious cruelty
An ancient craft is practised here
With the dogs at dawn

                                By Phil Roberts

Strange creatures circle the edges
And their eyes are hungry and haunted
One day their teeth shall glint dangerously
And I know it very well
For I shall be their meat
Though I cannot imagine fear
And I should feel something

Several people are asking me for help
But I shall probably turn away
For uncertainty clings to my head
Like a monkey that cannot be shaken
With claws in my eyes
I try to see my way out
But, of course, there is none
And the demands on my name
Echo where my conscience should be

Passengers come and go
On my endless journey
The landscape is familiar
And occasionally a memory smiles and waves
All too briefly, it seems
I feel I ought to cry more
But nothing seems to hurt as it used to
Only my nakedness makes me cold

                                               By Phil Roberts

Keep the innocents in the village
Don't let the children play outside
The homeless and the nameless
Must stay huddled together
Finding shelter where they can

Because there are killers high above
Dropping bombs of hatred and rhetoric
Killing and maiming indiscriminately
And the killers are from so many places
Leaders from all over the world
Whose only morality is ambition
And their only emotion is paranoia

And those who dare to disagree
Are shut up or closed down
Never to be heard from again
And those who care to notice
Are watching open-mouthed
The bloodied stump of history
Right before their eyes

                                   By Phil Roberts

There's a quiet murmuration
Of figments of my imagination
Dreams and broken notions
Feelings and emotions
Swirling and rearranging
Into ever-changing shapes in my mind

There are absent gods and howling dogs
And the broken backs of the poor
While jugglers perform tricks with wealth
As nobody seems to care anymore
Amidst marching boots as children shoot
And hope lies dead on the floor

There seems to be a ghost somewhere
Wandering high in purple mountains
And low in deep green valleys
And this roaming soul may well be
A kind of long lost truth
Inside my hidden mind

                               By Phil Roberts

Those twin oppressors
Time and silence
Weigh heavy on my consciousness
Digging up the graves of the past
Memories thought to be dead and gone
Stalking my mind again
Reminding me of the fool I've been
The pain I've known
The wrongs I've done
And those done to me
All returned to destroy
What passes as my peace of mind

                                By Phil Roberts

There is the emotion
Towards one's god
The one to be worshipped
Overwhelming
All consuming
We call it love

The feeling of a mother
Towards her child
A living part of her
A truly deep love
That none but mothers
Can fully understand

Then the obvious one
The love between lovers
Which can be ecstasy or agony
Denying sleep or food
Or even clear thought
Oh, such deep deep love

These emotions and more
We call them all love
But are they the same?
Or different views of one face
All in all, I believe that
One word is not enough

                                 By Phil Roberts

The words that leave my lips
Shall disappear
Like breath in cold air
Going nowhere
Meaning nothing

These poems into which
We pour our hearts
Other than the smallest few
Shall be lost in endless cyber space
Like billions of trillions of others

The loves that we swear eternally
Can last no longer than lovers' lives
It shall be negated by death
Other than to an unknown
And unknowing energy

                                        By Phil Roberts

Lasting longer than I thought
And thinking lasts too long

                                   By Phil Roberts