You can say you don't care
Or wish me away,
But I'll always notice your stare
When you really want me to stay.

Just go through the day
Pretending that everything is fine,
Just keep resisting to say
That you wish you were mine.

I know you want your feelings
To be hidden away,
But please then allow me to say;

You are my free verse love poem,
Not the rhyme,
Not the theme,
Not the time,
Nor the sceme.

You're my breath
Your my beat
You're my smile
And my C4.

You make me want more;
Love to give to you,
Smiles to return.
Heartbeats to increase.

You make me want more,
More than C4.

You are my free verse love poem,
Oh I'm so glad
That I know him.

Aug. 13. 1653.

Lord in thine anger do not reprehend me
Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct;
Pity me Lord for I am much deject
Am very weak and faint; heal and amend me,
For all my bones, that even with anguish ake,
Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore
And thou O Lord how long? turn Lord, restore
My soul, O save me for thy goodness sake
For in death no remembrance is of thee;
Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise?
Wearied I am with sighing out my dayes.
Nightly my Couch I make a kind of Sea;
My Bed I water with my tears; mine Eie
Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark
Ith’ mid’st of all mine enemies that mark.
Depart all ye that work iniquitie.
Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping
The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my prai’r
My supplication with acceptance fair
The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping.
Mine enemies shall all be blank and dash’t
With much confusion; then grow red with shame,
They shall return in hast the way they came
And in a moment shall be quite abash’t.

sadness invites you to
taste him and you
swallow him whole
instead

"this is what happens
when you get greedy,"
he says as he leaves you
in the dust

there is an aching in
your chest long after he
is gone and you realize
just what he meant after
his lips ghosted yours

you will always remember
how he touched you;
you are not sure that you
ever want to forget

still hangs in the night air
from holiday meals  
long grilled
the only light  I see
is above
the crescent  moon
and a triangle of stars
boasting of Saturn  
and Mars
plus the  bonus planet  Antares
as I stumble 
yet again
 through the lawn
to find  those
half sunken stepping stones
  on  tilted  soil
headed towards the back porch
where Lily cat meows
  loudly for her supper
by the back door

Let us love the night so silent

for even birds abandon the cold.

Let us love the night so barren

and feel the dark arrest our souls.

To the night I spill my heart,

it listens and it sighs;

To the night I bare my throat,

it stares with depthless eyes.

Have you been writing since I left you?
Has the notebook on the dresser been collecting dust?
Has your quill gone without human grasp for the past three months?

Have you kept your brain shut off from your constantly screaming heart?
How is your head lately-
you were fighting those demons pretty violently the last time we spoke.

I'm sorry I left you.
I'm sorry I had to do what I did.

I didn't want you to get hurt.
I didn't want to ever cause you pain.
Please remember that.

It's just that you put me on this pedestal;
and I'm afraid of heights

You thought I could fight your demons, but it was never my fight.

I'll always do what I can to help you, I'll always answer when you call.

I'll be the one jumping and screaming to celebrate when all your demons fall.


I hope you're writing.
I hope your thoughts are being put into ink.

I want to read everything if you'll let me;  someday sooner than you think.

Please keep writing,
it scares the monsters
keeps them at bay.

Please keep writing; one day soon they'll give up and go away.

Until then, know that I am thinking of you,
writing about you,
praying for you.

This battle can be won.
But only when you realize, dear
you're the only one who can make your demons run.//

I felt this primal urge
This trance-like instinct
To set things right
In case I have to leave
Move on, so to speak

So
I took my jaundiced eye
And rolled it from corner to corner
Of this, my situation
And I felt so very small and hard
Lost in largeness
For cynicism is a tight thing
Which allows little movement
A strange kind of chastity

And then, you see
Changes
Honesty demanded that I see more
Grow, so to speak

And oh, my poor sore eyes
See how the children starve
All over this bitter world
This bitter, sickened world
And cynicism did this
Through the slack hands of millions
Who still refuse to believe
That things can be changed

                                    By Phil Roberts