never again will I look into your eyes like they are the ocean.
you're not the ******* ocean.
you were never mysterious and charming
seashells pressed against my ear only muffled the words you said, what sounded like the soothing whisper of the ocean waves, were really the tides crashing violently onto the shore.
I lay now on this beach, I wait for a storm to follow me to my spot here on the sand, but I am left dry.
I see the water steady, and you are so far gone past the horizon, that when the sun sets, your silhouette is all that appears.
perspective sets in,
and I remember how you were a poisonous creature captivating me with every lethal injection the power of your words compelled.
I remember I'm alone.
I know that it's okay.
because you are not the ocean,
you are only one of its inhabitants,
and there are so many more creatures worth diving in for,
there are so many reasons to swim deeper.

chalk outlines where I lay in the center of yet another linoleum tiled floor
brown eyes never looked so wild
& I was always told never to care for a wild thing
but you are captivating
and damaging
you take masochistic pleasure in watching me swim in this ocean of doubt you made for me
confusion sweeps me up in her arms and carries me up into the clouds, my vision blurs more so now, the fog creeps in on this island.
canopy beds snap at the sound of exotic birds buzzing in the background;
background, can't you just act like the island is deserted?
can't you just imagine their voices are further away?
we walked on soft seaweed but stepped on sea urchins along the way, and you couldn't heal both of us.
you can't always heal both of us.
sometimes the tide comes up to the palm trees and sometimes it only goes so far that we have to walk to it, meet in the middle
but all that matters is that there is still an ocean right?
would you even care if there wasn't?
would you still be doubting my every word, as if it was nothing more than the sound of sea breeze?

navigating the linoleum tile barefoot and gripping the floor to feel the sand in my toes; the sand you told me would be here.
the fluorescent lights didn't warm me like the sun that tanned your skin but rather emphasized the lack of life I radiate.
I feel the ocean waves of paperwork flood my spot here on the beach where I sit next to you. I watch you tackle and surf each wave with breeze while I drown in the tides.
my fear overcompensates me and I stay on the edge of the beach while you swim in a deep blue abyss light years away from me.
the sharks ride under your board but you dodge their bite, the bite that keeps me from stepping out into the ocean.
and from miles away, I see the sun set over the ocean you've made your home, and from  my place on the shore, I can see the waves calm down for this moment. this moment where I no longer long to be a fish in your oceanic tank, but rather the salty sea breeze that lingers in the air even after the waves have fallen.

Mr Warrington lived up the hill
He was very big and very round
With a big round wobbling face
Guiness loomed large in his legend
When he used to come home from the pub
He'd say to us cheerily
"Give us a push up th'ill kids!"
So we'd gather round
Pushing him and pulling him up the hill
Like a tiny fleet of tugs
Nudging a liner into position
"Yer good kids!" he'd say "Ere y'are!"
And he dug into his pocket for small change
He threw it on the ground and
We scrabbled merrily
With every penny a blessing

                                        By Phil Roberts

He stood on the "Endless Bridge" in Guthrie Theater,
And looked onward at the old abandon mill district of Minneapolis.

The crescent moon ascended to the glimmer of the city lights
As the nature of the wind pulled his hair back to shed his hidden soul.

The Mississippi River clash against the pavements of the dam,
And the moist from the river felt through the air on the pours of the skin.

Neon lights of the 35W reminded the contemporary architect of modern city,
But the old mill district had it's ever so present among the modern buildings.

In that silence she walked down the aisle from the theater entry onto the balcony,
The silent graceful walk even in heels like a prey of the jungle,
There she stood next to him to reach her arm around his.

He glanced onto her face matching his eyes to her's,
And she pulled the most warm honest smile of innocence.

Upon his gaze upon her dark glistened navy blue dress,
With golden neckless he gave her as their anniversary gift,
And pearl earring illuminated the moon light of nightly beauty.

"You look majestic," barely able to mutter as he faced her side by side,
And his back against the solid balcony wall.

As I lie in my bed In the middle of the night, my memories come,
And go twisting my moments
Into dark memories.

Hunting me every night saying;
The words I never spoke,
And the things that lie before me
Taking shape of people I know.

Taking over, making me mad
With the false images of the forms they take.

Taking my soul part by part  the thought of death reaching, feeding,
on my pain and despair.

we are grids and squares
some of us supporting figures
and the wires that make things work
we rely and we take
captivate and motivate
but are still unhappy with what we have
easily disheartened by the chances we get

live up to your expectations.
play your part.