I used to swim across the channel to rattlesnake island when I lived
in Florida . We all knew the sharks loved
the funneling action of the channel to the bay . And we were always aware that there were sharks near by . We saw them every day . Yet the allure of the island just a scant one hundred yards away was to much for a 10 year old to pass up . So I would swim across holding a rod and reel high so it would not soak in sea water . I admit there was apprehension evident in my strokes and kicks but I made it across . On the other side there were no rattlesnakes anywhere .
Just gorgeous unclaimed white beaches and aqua clear water . Needle fish scooted across the surface and schools of mullet jumping were all I could see . I did little or no fishing , just running and jumping into the surf . What an afternoon it was . But the sun slid down and we knew we had to leave soon as the big sharks move in at dusk to feed into the night . So we stepped into the swirling waters of the channel and then plunged in and swam . Sharks have all black eyes . Cold  black eyes and an expressionless grin that is all business sporting a mouth full of jagged dagger teeth . They are cautious up to a point but no one knows where that point is . Once that point is reached . . . well you don't want to see that point while your in the water . So about half way across the channel we see a dark shadow swim by in front of us between us and the beach . We know it's a shark , a big one . Perhaps more than fifteen feet long . We can't stay where we are at , but we fear to move on . So taking a deep breath we swim on slow and steady . Finely the beach is at hand , our feet touch sand and we run up on the beach and collapse . Then with heaving chests of fear we look back only to see the shark swim by . Needless to say that was my last visit to rattlesnake island .

When you can only afford margarine,
which side your bread's buttered on is
immaterial.

The smoke swirls in anti clockwise perfection,
time
goes in the usual direction and the wine slips down
sweet.

Make do and mend,
will you break if you bend?

I am gypsyish with a wish in the well, a bandana looks good although I look like hell.

No more rock just a leisurely stroll and soul music.

The end is the night and
the day is but a trick of the light.
I sit tight and see it through.

Went to Jim's old hangout
Last night
Then
Had trouble
Sleeping
You know
When you see
Something
And
It is out of touch
But
So real
That you can
Reach out
And
You feel it
Yes
You feel it
Because
It touches you
And you feel it
And
You like the way it touches you
Yes
And you like the way it feels

Afraid of the rifle fire, he had

Crouched all day in the dirt,

A dull fellow at the best of times.

Ricocheting bullets bolted to the air

Surfing the wind, screaming

Abuse like ill-disciplined relatives

Arriving for an impromptu visit.

One shattered his head-there it was,

There were its remnants-

Greasy insubstantial grey matter that

Contained his soul.  

An end to drinks in the pub

The love of his wife

The smiles of his children

Holidays in Benidorm with the In-Laws

Paella by the swimming pool.

One bullet, not even new, put an end to a contented life.

Look at me now
Rising from the ground
Taking everything with me
No regrets
No remorse
No shame
What didn't **** me
It sure made me stronger
But it left some cracks
All of them are apart of me
Of who I am today
Scars of a battle that I've won
Medals that I carry with pride
Because if it wasn't for the past
I would never been this brave
Now I've regenerated from the ashes
My inner light shinning brighter than ever before
I've been reborn

Never trust the establishment
They do not exist for our benefit
For they believe  that we exist
For their convenience
Their only purpose is self-perpetuation
And they think that our only function
Is to accommodate that purpose
Whereas our true cause should be
To get rid of the *******

                                        By Phil Roberts

missing you
permeates my entire being
my arms and legs
my head and neck
do not feel connected anymore

i believe it began in my chest
traveling up my veins
and creating
brittle bones,
aluminum skin

my bloodstream is freezing over
steadily
slowly

until i am made of glass wholly
(i have fallen from heaven
and been made unholy)

i am made of nothing more
than  ice and stone
a statue no longer breathing--
i am no longer flesh and bone

as lonely shards
i litter the floor
until this black hole
has swallowed me whole