I feel bad for the Moon who burns my skin
It wasn’t her fault, but rather her lover’s
Skin once milky white -
Now swathed in blistery red
What was once a warm embrace -
Now needles in my veins
That deceiving Sun
Who once kissed my flesh into a blush
Has abandoned me to the agony of nightfall
And here I sway among a sea of grass caked in Summer's tears
Shaking my fist angrily at the Moon
Whose glow neither harms nor heals me -
But reveals her lover's trickery

When I was a young man
A heedless headlong consumer of life, was I
Above and beyond the norm or necessity
I wore paths deep and wide
To the pleasure centres of my brain
And I rode my soul like an easy *****
Oh happy daze of hedonism
How sweet life tasted then

If there was drink to drink
We drank it
If there were songs to sing
We sang them
If there were fights to fight
We fought them
We had fast feet and faster wits
If there was hell to raise
We raised it
Excess and adventure in equal parts
How fast, how high we flew back then

And then the magic playground
Became a bleak and dangerous place
Peopled by predators and prey
In an ever changing food chain
And I was only one step away
From the totally oblivious
One brain cell ahead of
The permanent reality challenged
Then friends began casually dying
Barely noticed in the rush to join them
Now the race is on
And I have grown old and slow

                                              By Phil Roberts

Mama loves me,
she told me don’t you worry son/sun, there’s enough space inside the solar system.
You’re claustrophobic ?
The key to the power is knowledge and honesty you better listen,
am I the lock smith ?

In fact, I’m the mother of your nature.
The incubator of your being.
All the lessons that I’ve taught you,
sometimes I feel like your employer for all the attention that I’ve  paid you.

Are you hungry?
I might just extract my lioness,
what’s the intension?
Just to feed males,
am I a female ?
Analyze natures anatomy to conjure up those details.

At 15 I was flirting with her,
she had a really pretty face that I couldn’t disregard.
Living in two separate apartments but stalking,
couldn’t stop looking at her thighs through her stockings.

A little timid figure.
With hopes of getting within her,
but I knew I couldn’t do it without looking like a sinner.

A silent conversation where everything is felt and known
in the soft quite space between our eyes
and nothing but slow rhythmic breath passes from our lips
and we don't have to force a smile
and just enjoy the silence wrapped around us
and the noise of nothing tying us together
in a locked gaze free to be ourselves
without the judgment of sound
and happy enough with being bored of being
and still brave enough to poke around
and dare to be a little more than just be
and finding a connection in knowing
together we are still alone
but there is no need of feeling lonely
because all we ever wanted was someone
that understands they don't have to understand
every little thing that isn't said
because there is often a deeper story in the pauses
between each sound and syllable
and each sigh and moan
and sometimes it is better to just lay there
in the comfort found outside the reach of our skin
and listen to the meaning of why
our hearts are beating beneath our bones
in the silent conversation
where everything is felt and known