I've used up the speed I used to need
Running hard at walls
All I got was blood and snot
And a large boot in the *****
But it's not over
Nothing's done
Oh no
The fight goes on

I've had knock backs from throwbacks
And been ridiculed by imbeciles
Half wits have had their say too
But eventually I'll get through
The fight goes on
On and on
Until I change their minds

                                         By Phil Roberts

Some things are indelibly written
Where mysteries and fates dwell

                                      By Phil Roberts

Some things are indelibly written
Where mysteries and fates dwell

                                      By Phil Roberts

Some things are indelibly written
Where mysteries and fates dwell

                                      By Phil Roberts

Some things are indelibly written
Where mysteries and fates dwell

                                      By Phil Roberts

I came out of the north-west
Staggering from the storm
The surgeons had repaired my body
And my mind hung by one hinge
So I headed for the coast of Wales
To assume the healing rhythm of the sea
And breathe the briny air
Where no-one knew me
Nor called my worn out name
Sweet freedom in isolation

And so, in smiling solitude
I walked and smoked too much
Staring at the moody ocean
As we all inevitably do
As though it holds answers
And indeed it does
The answer is "being"

One hot but breezy day
I followed the coast from north to south
Not too far but far enough
Until I came upon a harbour
Tiny and insignificant
But a harbour nonetheless
With a clutch of small boats
Bobbing and swaying lazily
On the backwater slack water tide
And somewhere close by
A nautical bell tolled the rhythm
Of an endless heedless movement
And an oddly comfortable melancholy
Rocked me in it's arms
Lost and found
Beginning and end

In as much as everything matters
Though nothing matters much
This place was nothing to me
No more than countless others
But that harbour bell
So patient and so constant
Touched something deeper than knowledge
Perhaps it was the state of my health
Or the glowing heat of the day
But some vulnerable receptor
Vibrated to that gentle toll
I've been in many places in my life
And seen wondrous famous sights
All seared into my minds eye
But their memories will last no longer
Than the haunting harbour bell

                                                By Phil Roberts

In the high sky
Where the air is weak
And full of strangers
Nothing lives for long
Only gypsy-footed drifters
Come here on their way
To who knows where

And this place can only be reached
Without anchor or rudder
Nor even a moral compass
Riding on clouds of smoke
And it's such a long way down
Through falling-about laughter
And blood in the gutter

                                              By Phil Roberts

In the high sky
Where the air is weak
And full of strangers
Nothing lives for long
Only gypsy-footed drifters
Come here on their way
To who knows where

And this place can only be reached
Without anchor or rudder
Nor even a moral compass
Riding on clouds of smoke
And it's such a long way down
Through falling-about laughter
And blood in the gutter
To the hungry crushing ground

                                              By Phil Roberts

In the high sky
Where the air is weak
And full of strangers
Nothing lives for long
Only gypsy-footed drifters
Come here on their way
To who knows where

And this place can only be reached
Without anchor or rudder
Nor even a moral compass
Riding on clouds of smoke
And it's such a long way down
Through falling-about laughter
And blood in the gutter
To the hungry crushing ground

                                              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

I have been mayor here for many years
Do they call me Pedro the Mayor?
They do not
I have built half this village with my bare hands
Do they call me Pedro the Builder?
They do not
I am a lay preacher in their church on Sundays
Do they call me Pedro the Preacher?
They do not
You **** one sheep..........

                                    By Phil Roberts

I have been mayor here for many years
Do they call me Pedro the Mayor?
They do not
I have built half this village with my bare hands
Do they call me Pedro the Builder?
They do not
I am a lay preacher in their church on Sundays
Do they call me Pedro the Preacher?
They do not
You **** one sheep..........

                                    By Phil Roberts

When the clouds roll in with the night,
hiding the stars and even the moon
so that there is no light in the sky,
I close my eyes and seek another illumination.
One that is all mine alone.
It is the light of my truth.
Mine alone
Unshared and unsharable

                                              By Phil Roberts

Here I go again
Dubious footsteps
Questionable motives
Perusing the dark and restless past
Changing as perceptions change
And perceptions change with
The tolerance of added years and distance
Creating the uncertainty of honesty
Turn black and white
Into grey elusive shadows
And there
Amidst the darkness of my past
And all my pointless journeys
For the first time ever
I see a small white light
Constant and unblinking
And I am aware deep inside
That this is the long awaited
Birth of peace

                        By Phil Roberts

Here I go again
Dubious footsteps
Questionable motives
Perusing the dark and restless past
Changing as perceptions change
And perceptions change with
The tolerance of added years and distance
Creating the uncertainty of honesty
Turn black and white
Into grey elusive shadows
And there
Amidst the darkness of my past
And all my pointless journeys
For the first time ever
I see a small white light
Constant and unblinking
And I am aware deep inside
That this is the long awaited
Birth of peace

                        By Phil Roberts

I am cold
Cold and empty
I have emerged from the void
Once again
Into the safety of emptiness
And the comfort of the cold
Hiding behind manic mantras
To ward off madness

You see, I shook the memory tree
In search of inspiration
Stories from the past
To amuse or provoke
But when you shake that cursed tree
Not all the fruit that falls is good
And one memory leads to another
Like a row of terrible dominoes
Leading to long forgotten
And deeply hidden
Traumas

                                     By Phil Roberts

Are you dead now, old man
Or shall you crawl a while longer
In your stains and your stink
Because that is not a life you lead
But something blind and stumbling
Meaningless and mindless
Don't you wish you were dead?

Are you cold now, old man
Within your cardboard-box bed
And your loss and fear?
And now summer and youth are long gone
With your mind and your heart and soul
Leaving nothing but memories
Which you cannot grasp anymore
What were you once, old man?

Was it pain or neglect
Or maybe crumbled dreams?
Did you believe things which were lies?
Well, why not?
So did I
And as the cliche has it,
There but for the grace of so and so
And so on and so forth
But now, farewell my lovely
For I think that you are dead

                                       By Phil Roberts

Walking in the cold rain
Alone and
Going nowhere
Just hiding tears in raindrops

Always dreaming of being lost
Lost and then
The endless fall
Then the gasping awakening

But always the rain will end
And sunrise
Put an end
To the cruelty of night

And life will begin in warmth
And hope
Blossoms
Into the sweetest softest petals

                                           By Phil Roberts

Walking in the cold rain
Alone and
Going nowhere
Just hiding tears in raindrops

Always dreaming of being lost
Lost and then
The endless fall
The gasping awakening

But always the rain will end
And sunrise
Put an end
To the cruelty of night

And life will begin in warmth
And hope
Blossoms into
The sweetest softest petals

                                           By Phil Roberts

Walking in the cold rain
Alone and
Going nowhere
Just hiding tears in raindrops

Always dreaming of being lost
Lost and then
The endless fall
Then the gasping awakening

But always the rain will end
And sunrise
Put an end
To the cruelty of night

And life will begin in warmth
And hope
Blossoms
Into the sweetest softest petals

                                           By Phil Roberts

Walking in the cold rain
Alone and
Going nowhere
Just hiding tears in raindrops

Always dreaming of being lost
Lost and then
The endless fall
Then the gasping awakening

But always the rain will end
And sunrise
Put an end
To the cruelty of night

And life will begin in warmth
And hope
Blossoms
Into the sweetest softest petals

                                           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

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

You may not be surprised to hear
After being brought up by a violent mother
And years of reckless living
That I have had therapy several times
And bought several t-shirts
Art therapy
Group therapy
****** therapy
And it must be said that they helped
Along with proper medication
Things improved and I became calmer
In fact, a certain amount of peace descended
And many people were kind and helpful
But no-one tells you what to do
During long hellish nights
When your spine and brain are screaming
Reminding you of just who you are
And why.

                         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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lay back in the afternoon sun
Next door's tired child cries half-heartedly
Having worn herself out in the heat
Mother makes soothing noises
As she takes her indoors
And I'm just soaking up the rays
My skin getting darker
And my hair going whiter
I am at peace with my piece of world
Listening to sparrows chattering
And a blackbird serenades
From the top of a nearby tree
As my dog diligently patrols the garden
My eyes closed against the sun
I drift to other places

                                      Phil Roberts

Lay back in the afternoon sun
Next door's tired child cries half-heartedly
Having worn herself out in the heat
Mother makes soothing noises
As she takes her indoors
And I'm just soaking up the rays
My skin getting darker
And my hair going whiter
I am at peace with my piece of world
Listening to sparrows chattering
And a blackbird serenades
From the top of a nearby tree
As my dog diligently patrols the garden
My eyes closed against the sun
I drift to other places

                                      Phil Roberts

Lay back in the afternoon sun
Next door's tired child cries half-heartedly
Having worn herself out in the heat
Mother makes soothing noises
As she takes her indoors
And I'm just soaking up the rays
My skin getting darker
And my hair going whiter
I am at peace with my piece of world
Listening to sparrows chattering
And a blackbird serenades
From the top of a nearby tree
As my dog diligently patrols the garden
My eyes closed against the sun
I drift to other places

                                      Phil Roberts

Those who are expecting
A metaphor for life here
It isn't

This is about the slides we made as kids
One of our winter sports
When the snow was on the ground
We would pick a place
And tread it down over and over
Until it was compacted and hard
Then we would slide and shuffle our feet on it
Until it became shiny and slippy
Then we would slide on it
until it became longer and glassy
By then it was a proper slide
And you could charge other kids
Usually marbles or conkers
To use your slide for a while
Capitalism starts young

So one day I was up and out early
Working diligently on a wonderful slide
And it positively gleamed in the morning sun
But I had made an unfortunate error
My slide was on the public footpath
Right outside our front gate
And along came Mrs Cooper
Naturally, the inevitable happened
It was, after all, a very good slide
Some might say.....lethal

Well, her shopping bag flew into the air
Closely followed by her feet
I don't remember much about Mrs Cooper
But I do recall that she was rather rotund
And wore enormous pink bloomers
Which in itself was rather scary
Obviously, I tried to help her up
But her weight took us both back down
She shouldn't have used language like that
In front of a kid my age

You won't be surprised to read
That I suffered the consequences
I'll bet my **** was sorer than hers
And I was made to pour salt
All over my beautiful slide

                                     By Phil Roberts

Those who are expecting
A metaphor for life here
It isn't

This is about the slides we made as kids
One of our winter sports
When the snow was on the ground
We would pick a place
And tread it down over and over
Until it was compacted and hard
Then we would slide and shuffle our feet on it
Until it became shiny and slippy
Then we would slide on it
until it became longer and glassy
By then it was a proper slide
And you could charge other kids
Usually marbles or conkers
To use your slide for a while
Capitalism starts young

So one day I was up and out early
Working diligently on a wonderful slide
And it positively gleamed in the morning sun
But I had made an unfortunate error
My slide was on the public footpath
Right outside our front gate
And along came Mrs Cooper
Naturally, the inevitable happened
It was, after all, a very good slide
Some might say.....lethal

Well, her shopping bag flew into the air
Closely followed by her feet
I don't remember much about Mrs Cooper
But I do recall that she was rather rotund
And wore enormous pink bloomers
Which in itself was rather scary
Obviously, I tried to help her up
But her weight took us both back down
She shouldn't have used language like that
In front of a kid my age

You won't be surprised to read
That I suffered the consequences
I'll bet my **** was sorer than hers
And I was made to pour salt
All over my beautiful slide

                                     By Phil Roberts

When I was a younger man
Time moved so much quicker
There was always something happening
Always something changing
Somewhere to go
Something to catch up with
Or even to escape from
People came and went
Then came and went again
"Where's he living these days?"
"Who knows what's happening?"

Now things are quieter and calmer
In this age of ghosts
In the land of the lost and lonely
Where once there was speed
There's nowhere to go
And nothing much changes
Even my dreams remain the same
As, with an unaccustomed patience
I write poems
And wait

                              By Phil Roberts

When I was a younger man
Time moved so much quicker
There was always something happening
Always something changing
Somewhere to go
Something to catch up with
Or even to escape from
People came and went
Then came and went again
"Where's he living these days?"
"Who knows what's happening?"

Now things are quieter and calmer
In this age of ghosts
In the land of the lost and lonely
Where once there was speed
There's nowhere to go
And nothing much changes
Even my dreams remain the same
As, with an unaccustomed patience
I write poems
And wait

                              By Phil Roberts

The thunder roared and rumbled
Without pause
The lightning was so quick
Like strobe lighting
And the rain fell like a million waterfalls
As the storm raged on and on
Biblical in it's violence

Then slowly
The thunder rolled away
And the lightning ceased to flash
Until even the rain subsided
That's when I came to realise
That the storm still lived
And it lived in me

                                     By Phil Roberts

The desperado has crossed the wasteland
He is crazy and grinning mad
But his child-bride is almost dead
Burning beneath the bleaching sun
She tries to crawl in his shadow
Which he keeps teasingly out of reach
As his cruelty has sustained him
So her hatred has sustained her
And thus they have become one
Wedded in the pain of exile
They cannot be parted

Now the freezing night has fallen
And they stand together at your door
This hard and spiky man
As sharp as any weapon
And his shivering dawn of a wife
With tear marks scored into her face
They want your warmth and food
She pleading and he demanding
They crave the shelter of your home
Can you turn her away
Dare you let him in
For they can never be parted

                             By Phil Roberts

The desperado has crossed the wasteland
He is crazy and grinning mad
But his child-bride is almost dead
Burning beneath the bleaching sun
She tries to crawl in his shadow
Which he keeps teasingly out of reach
As his cruelty has sustained him
So her hatred has sustained her
And thus they have become one
Wedded in the pain of exile
They cannot be parted

Now the freezing night has fallen
And they stand together at your door
This hard and spiky man
As sharp as any weapon
And his shivering dawn of a wife
With tear marks scored into her face
They want your warmth and food
She pleading and he demanding
They crave the shelter of your home
Can you turn her away
Dare you let him in
For they can never be parted

                             By Phil Roberts

The desperado has crossed the wasteland
He is crazy and grinning mad
But his child-bride is almost dead
Burning beneath the bleaching sun
She tries to crawl in his shadow
Which he keeps teasingly out of reach
As his cruelty has sustained him
So her hatred has sustained her
And thus they have become one
Wedded in the pain of exile
They cannot be parted

Now the freezing night has fallen
And they stand together at your door
This hard and spiky man
As sharp as any weapon
And his shivering dawn of a wife
With tear marks scored into her face
They want your warmth and food
She pleading and he demanding
They crave the shelter of your home
Can you turn her away
Dare you let him in
For they can never be parted

                             By Phil Roberts

This night is beyond you
Just out of control
Grins and curious eyes hit you in the face
And you are staggering again
Get to the bar and try for sanity
Don't think too much
Slow down your mind
Get another drink to soften the edges
You're asking for a gin and panic
Everyone's a stranger
And everyone knows who you are
And  everyone's talking
You've seen all this before somewhere
This is some kind of reality
And you are outside of it
No-one warned you that your words
Would be taken down as used as trivia
Don't laugh, you fool
It's not that funny
And those faces are staring again
There's a table to hold on to
Something to stop you from sinking
Keep swimming through the noise
And the smoke and the eyes
And the wet mouths
And the liquid glasses
And the moving walls
And the approaching floor

                             By Phil Roberts

A name is called in the deep of sleep
Hanging in the night like a star
From the subconscious to the surreal
Memories and myths collide here
All smoke and mirrors to mislead
And mystery
Always mystery
Until reality slips and slides
And the only truth is doubt

                                      By Phil Roberts

A name is called in the deep of sleep
Hanging in the night like a star
From the subconscious to the surreal
Memories and myths collide here
All smoke and mirrors to mislead
And mystery
Always mystery
Until reality slips and slides
And the only truth is doubt

                                      By Phil Roberts

A name is called in the deep of sleep
Hanging in the night like a star
From the subconscious to the surreal
Memories and myths collide here
All smoke and mirrors to mislead
And mystery
Always mystery
Until reality slips and slides
And the only truth is doubt

                                      By Phil Roberts

It's hard to admit it
But I'm afraid we must
The sweetest dreams
Can turn to dust

However wonderful the song may be
We need to hear the melody
Whatever beauty a painting brings
If left unseen, it's just a thing

Because it seems to me that a dream
Should hold a hope of reality
Otherwise it's not a dream
It's just a game, you see

                                       By Phil Roberts

A name is called in the deep of sleep
Hanging in the night like a star
From the subconscious to the surreal
Memories and myths collide here
All smoke and mirrors to mislead
And mystery
Always mystery
Until reality slips and slides
And the only truth is doubt

                                      By Phil Roberts

A name is called in the deep of sleep
Hanging in the night like a star
From the subconscious to the surreal
Memories and myths collide here
All smoke and mirrors to mislead
And mystery
Always mystery
Until reality slips and slides
And the only truth is doubt

                                      By Phil Roberts

Don't hang around
Waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel
Because in the end
You're just going to have to stumble your way
Through the darkness
And turn it on for yourself

                                      By Phil Roberts