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

Love,  be gentle and kind,
take that rusty gun from under
my pillow and shoot me twice
in the heart so I can feel the hurt
from the first time and the pain
from the second again;
but don't bury me in the dirt
beneath your bare feet,
just burn me like the memory
of your brown soles I saw
running away, oh, so long
a time ago, I can't even remember.

come crashing down
through darkness
into sight
a permanent marker
sharpie stuck in your eye
black all you see
negatives hung on the walls
charcoal reliefs
of those you knew
paragraphs of sadness
posted to your wall in pencil
on sheets of paper

ashtrays filled with ashes
trash cans with beer cans
and the day begins
thinking of when it will end
making breath and striving
just to make it
until
you see the moon beckons again

I woke up this morning
To smiley faces rolling
Up and down the street
Chasing after me

My bad disposition
Has them at my heals licking
Trying to give me
Much more than happy feet

I bring an umbrella
As they're also in the weather
Smiling down on me
Coming down in sheets

They say if you can't beat em
It's best if you join in
So I stopped after awhile
Stood real still with great big smile

That's when my attitude
Right then and there improved
For granted I'd been taking
All these smiley faces

Now I wake each morning
Join the smiley faces rolling
Up and down the street
Hoping you will smile with me

........
........
Past eight in the ev'ning....rainy sky
Was out at the verandah...twas time
To pull the second bar of the gate
Street was a bit dark..........despite my dimming sight
I could see shapes...sensed some presence...heard soft noises'
Permeating the cool night atmosphere...three voices
Four guests, as in past nights...waiting outside...

A rushing, and tingling of plates, ladles and pots
The opening and closing of the glass door
After a while, our guests were served late dinner
Complaining.....in their own familiar way

Three impatient stray cats, kept meow-ing,
The neighbor's dog...as usual...patiently waited...
The brown-striped cat ran to the vacant lot
And started licking her share of fishhead
While the younger two, shared a single plate.
They all contentedly, ate in silence...

After a while...one by one,
Our regular guests disappeared
Lost, in the dark....among the tall banana plants
Sheltered themselves....somewhere safe,  
Their purrs, and hushed yelping,
Faded...in the black distance...
:::::::
:::::::::::::::::::
Twas time, to secure the bar of the gate,
.....................time, to close for the night...



Sally

Copyright October 24, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan