The wind shuffles the long grass
And the broad green reeds
Shifting and rattling
By the rippling black water
Chuckling water fowl splash
Swans and cygnets hurry past
And the weather is on the turn
It's time to be heading home

The last of the daylight creatures
And the very first of those of the night
Are sharing this half-way hour
The sky restlessly moves and changes
And bruised clouds rush over head
Like the rubbed eye-lids of a child
A weary teary child
Going home and ready for bed

The slack and glossy water
Laps at the stone beneath bridges
Echoing with the ghosts of barges
And spits of rain flick the air
Studs of cold hitting the face
Turning a collar to the cheek
And urging aching feet
Home-fire yearning me home

                               By Phil Roberts

There's a shower of rain
Yet the sun still shines
There must be a rainbow
Somewhere

An old man nods in his chair
He came from nowhere
And went nowhere else
Journeying all the way

Now he journeys through time
Down the aching years
Things that he's seen and done
Some good and wondrous
And some of them terrible

An old man nods in his chair
Travelling
Behind closed eyes
All the things he's seen and done
The people he's known
All the things he's said
Within his nodding head

Tears pour down his face
Down the canyons grooved by time
And yet he smiles
Gently and softly
There must be a rainbow
Somewhere

                       By Phil Roberts

Jokers and knaves are wild cards
As ever they were
What fateful houses these make
Breath-held balancing
Precarious shelters
Gamblers and wanderers
With tumbleweed roots
Clinging air instead of earth
The stuff of fools and stars
And someone's days and years
Are made only of this
This thrilling despair

Jokers and knaves and kings and queens
And some of subtler meaning
Mean nothing but paper
Numbers and trembles
Dry-mouthed mumbles
Prayers to a ruthless god
With no reason to pity fools
And a dark love of sacrifice
Yet still desperate belief
Huddled behind swollen eyes
Contradicts every probable outcome
And falls and spins

                        By Phil Roberts

There's a quiet murmuration
Of figments of my imagination
Dreams and broken notions
Feelings and emotions
Swirling and rearranging
Into ever-changing shapes in my mind

There are absent gods and howling dogs
And the broken backs of the poor
While jugglers perform tricks with wealth
As nobody seems to care anymore
Amidst marching boots as children shoot
And hope lies dead on the floor

There seems to be a ghost somewhere
Wandering high in purple mountains
And low in deep green valleys
And this roaming soul may well be
A kind of long lost truth
Inside my hidden mind

                               By Phil Roberts

COME ON UNI-TED!!!!!!!!!!
No ****** Rooney
Injured
De Gea injured in the ---kin' warm up!!!
For ---k's sake!
In the warm up!!!!!
Yes! Yes!.....
Oh you ****-hole!
Referee!
Are you ---kin' blind?!!!
That was NEVER a foul!
Who's paying your ---kin' wages
Yer tw-t !!!
YEEES!!
MEMPHIS!!!!!!!!
Fabulous goal!
Waddaya mean lucky?
ohh no, kick him
---Kin' kick him!!!
OHHH NOOOO!!!
What the ---k are ya playin' at!!!
THAT was a lucky goal
The *******
Thank ---k it's half time
I need a smoke
Phew, I'm knackered with another half to go

                                                 By Phil Roberts

Stay the moon
Cloudless and glowing
In her naked splendour
With her silver-white light
Cutting shadows
With sudden edges
Sharp enough to shave a man's face
Let her alien ambience
And constant strangeness
Reshape perception

And how stars sparkle
Heavenly diamonds on velvet night
So very many to see
And more beyond numbers
That our eyes will never see
And every moving star
Holds it's clutch of planets
An uncountable number
Of unheard stories

                                    By Phil Roberts

I didn't fall into disrepute
So much as occur there

                                    By Phil Roberts

My friends abroad think I'm peculiarly English
My English friends think I'm peculiarly northern
My northern friends just think I'm peculiar
But at least I've got friends

                                                     By Phil Roberts

In the high sky
Where the air is weak
And full of strangers
Nothing lives for long
Only gypsy-footed drifters
Come here on their way
To who knows where

And this place can only be reached
Without anchor or rudder
Nor even a moral compass
Riding on clouds of smoke
And it's such a long way down
Through falling-about laughter
And blood in the gutter

                                              By Phil Roberts

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

Death patiently files his nails
And smokes a casual cigarette
Grinning and eyeless
He says so calmly
"Catch you later
Brave little dreamer"

Despite such brittle certainty
Men and women build
Despite such small mortality
Every space is filled
In the midst of death's destruction
Men and women build again

Fear, like a cringing bowel
Exudes an acrid stench
And whimpers and whines
Simpers and cries
"Don't you dare
Don't you ever dare"

Despite this clinging dread
Some will need to dare
Despite the bursting head
Dreams insist on birth
In the midst of our stupidities
Something wondrous strives

                                    By Phil Roberts

All of the shining mad ones
With their heresies of reality
And other visions and other voices
Are not diminished
By the multitude of choices
That is their truth
Upon each waking day

They are woken by the howl
From beyond the first ear
And into the deeper mind
Where there is other language
And blinding colours of emotion
For madness has the purity of pain
That martyrs can only long for

                                           By Phil Roberts

Strange creatures circle the edges
And their eyes are hungry and haunted
One day their teeth shall glint dangerously
And I know it very well
For I shall be their meat
Though I cannot imagine fear
And I should feel something

Several people are asking me for help
But I shall probably turn away
For uncertainty clings to my head
Like a monkey that cannot be shaken
With claws in my eyes
I try to see my way out
But, of course, there is none
And the demands on my name
Echo where my conscience should be

Passengers come and go
On my endless journey
The landscape is familiar
And occasionally a memory smiles and waves
All too briefly, it seems
I feel I ought to cry more
But nothing seems to hurt as it used to
Only my nakedness makes me cold

                                               By Phil Roberts

I knew he was dying
I thought maybe a few weeks left
So still and so quiet
This man whose laugh made us all laugh
The man who always had ideas
Where to go, what to do for a laugh
Always a laugh
Sharer of adventures
Partner in crime
For thirty-six crazy years
Dying before my eyes and
Taking much of my life with him

He'd had a massive stroke a year earlier
They said he'd die then
But he defied them and recovered a lot
Proper conversations and learning to walk
Then they discovered that he had cancer
And here we were five weeks later
"How long are you gonna be in here?" I asked
He turned his head and looked hard at me
"I die next week," he said
As though he had an appointment

He got three days, not a week
I cried seeing him dying
But I was relieved for him when he did
Now my old friend is gone
And it's a duller world without him

                                       By Phil Roberts

There's a quiet murmuration
Of figments of my imagination
Dreams and broken notions
Feelings and emotions
Swirling and rearranging
Into ever-changing shapes in my mind

There are absent gods and howling dogs
And the broken backs of the poor
While jugglers perform tricks with wealth
As nobody seems to care anymore
Amidst marching boots as children shoot
And hope lies dead on the floor

There seems to be a ghost somewhere
Wandering high in purple mountains
And low in deep green valleys
And this roaming soul may well be
A kind of long lost truth
Inside my hidden mind

                               By Phil Roberts

When the night is calm
There is tenderness
Within a dream I have
And the dream
Remains the same

Down through the years
Through pain and fear
And the spite of heedless fate
The tenderness abides
Right here by your side

And there will come a day
When the landscape will change
With the blending of hills
Which I bring with me
And your sweet valleys
Making the pathway smooth

                                        By Phil Roberts

Here I go again
Dubious footsteps
Questionable motives
Perusing the dark and restless past
Changing as perceptions change
And perceptions change with
The tolerance of added years and distance
Creating the uncertainty of honesty
Turn black and white
Into grey elusive shadows
And there
Amidst the darkness of my past
And all my pointless journeys
For the first time ever
I see a small white light
Constant and unblinking
And I am aware deep inside
That this is the long awaited
Birth of peace

                        By Phil Roberts

On my better days
My watery eye rests
Somewhere between dream and imagination
And I am aware of a gentle ocean
Swinging into lazy waves
Slapping each other softly
As a bright white yacht
Slips serenely and silently
Through this accommodating sea
As long as the planet breathes
And air becomes wind
Or even breeze enough
To fill the glowing sails
The yacht keeps gliding
Blithely forward
But that's on my better days

                                            By Phil Roberts

When the moon is full
A shiny silver disc
I'd steal it and roll it along
Like a hoop with a stick
All the way to your door
And give it you as a gift

Then I'd reach up to the sky
And grab the brightest stars
I'd gather them together
And place them in a jar
So you could let them loose
When the night is dark

And when the weather's bad
And the sky is dark with rain
I'd fill my lungs with air
And blow those clouds away
Then I'd push the sun over you
So you'd come out to play

I'd knock on your front door
And greet you with grace and style
Then I'd sing and dance foolishly
Just to make you smile
In fact, I would do anything
To make you happy for a while

                                                By Phil Roberts

We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........

Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life

Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all

And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away

                    By Phil Roberts

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

My emotional life
Is a blind three-legged mule called Idiot
He limps around, occasionally falling over
As he wanders in circles in his darkness
Because he is an idiot
He makes no sense of the sounds he hears
And so, out of compassion
I've decided to put him out of his misery
Click
Bang!

                        By Phil Roberts

I was once called
A communist, a fascist and an anarchist
All in one sentence
Which I thought was quite impressive
And this was because I was a union man
My fellow workers elected me to represent them
In our dealings with management
I was involved in negotiations
About the application of regulations
And other tedious vexations
And on rare occasions
I led disputes and even strikes
And, over the years
I helped to save many jobs
Not numbers
But peoples' livelihoods
Some will say I was a rabble-rouser
An agitator
Some can say as they like
All I ever did
Was stand up for the underdog
And I hope I always will

                                   By Phil Roberts

Never ordinary
Never easy
Nothing parts the sea
Nothing moves the earth
This is a hard world
And there is no give at all

Don't press your face to the ground
It does not help
Don't shout at the sky
It does not hear
Nothing helps
And no-one hears
This is desolation

In the wavering distance
Less than light
Reality  drifts eerily by
There is no need to go
No reason to stay
Grey coiling wraiths
Rise and slowly sway
They could be anything
Anyone
Distinctions have no place
Nowhere to hide
Here is where souls shudder
And shatter


                                    By Phil Roberts

That's me in the middle
In the middle of the world
Just as everyone else
Is in the centre of their's
And we'll never meet
Or even live in the same climate
A thousand miles to west or east
And yet
By the grace of various miracles
Your words may move me
And hopefully, mine will move you
To defy distance and differences

                                                    By Phil Roberts

Are you dead now, old man
Or shall you crawl a while longer
In your stains and your stink
Because that is not a life you lead
But something blind and stumbling
Meaningless and mindless
Don't you wish you were dead?

Are you cold now, old man
Within your cardboard-box bed
And your loss and fear?
And now summer and youth are long gone
With your mind and your heart and soul
Leaving nothing but memories
Which you cannot grasp anymore
What were you once, old man?

Was it pain or neglect
Or maybe crumbled dreams?
Did you believe things which were lies?
Well, why not?
So did I
And as the cliche has it,
There but for the grace of so and so
And so on and so forth
But now, farewell my lovely
For I think that you are dead

                                       By Phil Roberts

In the high sky
Where the air is weak
And full of strangers
Nothing lives for long
Only gypsy-footed drifters
Come here on their way
To who knows where

And this place can only be reached
Without anchor or rudder
Nor even a moral compass
Riding on clouds of smoke
And it's such a long way down
Through falling-about laughter
And blood in the gutter
To the hungry crushing ground

                                              By Phil Roberts

Keep the innocents in the village
Don't let the children play outside
The homeless and the nameless
Must stay huddled together
Finding shelter where they can

Because there are killers high above
Dropping bombs of hatred and rhetoric
Killing and maiming indiscriminately
And the killers are from so many places
Leaders from all over the world
Whose only morality is ambition
And their only emotion is paranoia

And those who dare to disagree
Are shut up or closed down
Never to be heard from again
And those who care to notice
Are watching open-mouthed
The bloodied stump of history
Right before their eyes

                                   By Phil Roberts

In the morning I awake
With the after-taste
Of a half-remembered dream
And a barely formed face
Shadow of the past
And emotions that last

And some of these dreams
Would make a hero cry
And some of these dreams
No matter how I try
I know will stay with me
Until the day I die

                                   By Phil Roberts

I came out of the north-west
Staggering from the storm
The surgeons had repaired my body
And my mind hung by one hinge
So I headed for the coast of Wales
To assume the healing rhythm of the sea
And breathe the briny air
Where no-one knew me
Nor called my worn out name
Sweet freedom in isolation

And so, in smiling solitude
I walked and smoked too much
Staring at the moody ocean
As we all inevitably do
As though it holds answers
And indeed it does
The answer is "being"

One hot but breezy day
I followed the coast from north to south
Not too far but far enough
Until I came upon a harbour
Tiny and insignificant
But a harbour nonetheless
With a clutch of small boats
Bobbing and swaying lazily
On the backwater slack water tide
And somewhere close by
A nautical bell tolled the rhythm
Of an endless heedless movement
And an oddly comfortable melancholy
Rocked me in it's arms
Lost and found
Beginning and end

In as much as everything matters
Though nothing matters much
This place was nothing to me
No more than countless others
But that harbour bell
So patient and so constant
Touched something deeper than knowledge
Perhaps it was the state of my health
Or the glowing heat of the day
But some vulnerable receptor
Vibrated to that gentle toll
I've been in many places in my life
And seen wondrous famous sights
All seared into my minds eye
But their memories will last no longer
Than the haunting harbour bell

                                                By Phil Roberts

Edges of shadows
In the corners of eyes
Too fast to see
It might be me

Is it true
What you see?
Is it real?
Is it really me?

You do not hear my voice
Or know the colour of my eyes
You would not know me in the street
Or recognise my accent
Should we meet

And yet
You have seen my soul
In the words I write
And even the spaces between them

Those who care to look
Can know my story
My frailties
My vulnerabilities
My reality

This may be my curse
And my gift to you
Whatever it may be
You know that it is true

                                   By Phil Roberts

When your footsteps falter and slip
Hold on to me
If your eyes fill with tears
And the future seems blurred and distant
I'll be there to take your hand
You may not see me
But you'll feel me there
Right beside you
Always
So hold on to me

                        By Phil Roberts

She cries tears of mother's ruin
"Look at me!
It's been so hard
All of my life
And I've had to fight
For my own patch of light
Still, no-one ever looks at me"

He turns his eyes to the floor
Saying nothing
Feeling stupid
And his words burst like bubbles in his mouth
He is desperate to say something
Anything to make her happy
But he cannot turn disappointment
Back into youthful optimism
Or bitterness back to hope
As she sinks into smeary sobs
Wet and bleary loss
He takes her home

He undresses her and puts her to bed
Then he holds her as she cries
And he holds her as she sleeps
He hushes her when she stirs
And calms her when she starts and cries out
When the dreams become too real
And he shall never be more than this
Never more fulfilled
Caring for her is his only purpose
Making her happy is his holy grail
Willingly trapped within her pain
He is nothing else at all

                               By Phil Roberts

I do not speak in sombre tones
Not for me the gentle echo
Hushing through hallowed halls
I shall growl my way to the grave
Be ****** to the insignificant
And to hell with the indifferent
There are no rules or rulers
There are only fools and foolers

I need no-one else's straight lines
I have imagination enough to swerve
And spite enough to spin
Snapping snarling and seditious
Spitting venomous and vicious
Flamed by the world's injustice
And humanity's indifference
Not until I am dead burned and scattered
Shall I rest assured

                                By Phil Roberts

We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........

Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life

Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all

And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away

                    By Phil Roberts

The setting sun still blazes
A white hot disc
It's final defiant rays
Shaped and shifted
By the softly sailing layers of cloud
And feathers and threads of vapour
All reflected as glinting sequins
Upon the sparkling sea
As it softly  rolls and splashes
Rattling pebbles and empty shells
Invading and the disappearing beach
Seasoning the air
With salty spray to sharpen the senses
And the ceaseless rhythm of the murmuring tide
Stirs and caresses the soul
And whispers of a million memories
Time and tide and ocean
At peace in endless motion

                                  By Phil Roberts

In the night somewhere
A baby cries
And somewhere else
Lovers sigh
And as time passes
An old man dies

Somewhere out in space
A planet turns
And light years away
A star sun burns
Making us merely dust
And no-one learns

                                 By Phil Roberts

I recently went through a spell
When I had one minor and two major operations
In rather quick succession
One of the consequences of this was
That I didn't see my grandkids for months on end
Primary schools being, as they are
The Petrie dishes for all human disease
So, it was decided that as I was either waiting for
Or recovering from surgery
To keep them away from me
Until I was in the clear
And when I was in the clear
I was soooo glad to see four of them
The youngest of my grandkids
Are twin boys, far from identical
And at this time they were about six
One standing a head taller than the other
And at seperate points in the day
Independant of each other
Each twin said the same thing
"Grampy, I  thought you were allergic to kids."
And to each I gave the same reply
Once I stopped laughing
"Ah well, sometimes it's better than others."
I can see the picture now
"Mummy, why can't we see Grampy?"
Jenny, doing a thousand other things
And no time for explanations
"Grampy's allergic to kids!"

                                              By Phil Roberts

Stay the moon
Cloudless and glowing
In her naked splendour
With her silver-white light
Cutting shadows
With sudden edges
Sharp enough to shave a man's face
Let her alien ambience
And constant strangeness
Reshape perception

And how stars sparkle
Heavenly diamonds on velvet night
So very many to see
And more beyond numbers
That our eyes will never see
And every moving star
Holds it's clutch of planets
An uncountable number
Of unheard stories

                                    By Phil Roberts

Blossoms billow in slow-motion
Tender petals sigh to the ground
Cushioned upon a sunny breeze
And fat bees and lazy bluebottles
Are snoring gently
Bouncing softly
From bloom to gorgeous bloom
Glad-ragged and gleaming
In their gaudiest glory
And neon dragonflies drone
Adding to the sonerous  chorus
As they skim a sweltering pool
Where carp break the surface
Idly basking in the heat
There is a blackbird clarinetting
From the top of a nearby tree
And high-summer aromas
Pervade the shimmering air
And, just for this moment
Time itself stands still

                            By Phil Roberts

The king wears Doc Martins
For booting tardy servants
And the servants grovel meekly
Whilst planning dire retribution
Come the day, you old *******
Come the glorious day

The queen is in the bike shed
Letting down random tyres
Throwing stones through windows
To while away the hours
Oh! the trial of royal boredom
With a castle and pointed towers

The princess lives in the highest tower
And spits on passers by below
Sometimes she uses a catapult
To fire cats at nearby nobles
And the nobles mutter curses
Whilst bowing so very low

But now that it's Christmas time
And the royals anticipate gifts
But the royal tree hides nothing, you see
Because these things are never missed
And the sleigh did not stay
And Santa did not call

                                       By Phil Roberts

Wistfully
Wishfully
My daydream drift
Takes me eye to eye
And hand in hand
On a sunny morning
Somewhere
Settling dust
Step by step
And side by side
There's a tide close by
Responding to gravity
And gravity of sorts
Draws our souls
Fatefully
Inevitably
Together

                     By Phil Roberts

There are times in my life
When all I want to do
Is to disappear
No plans
No questions
And no recriminations
Just disappearance
To nowhere

                            By Phil Roberts

Protected by a suit of dreams
And armed with a smile
He came out of nowhere
And went his own way

Seemingly believing nothing
And walking in no-one else's footsteps
He follows no rules without reasons
But he knows right from wrong
And he knows that's what matters

In a world of easy hypocrisy
Where compassion is stifled by fear
And belief is a reason to hate
To hate and destroy other beliefs
He goes his own way

                              By Phil Roberts

I came out of the north-west
Staggering from the storm
The surgeons had repaired my body
And my mind hung by one hinge
So I headed for the coast of Wales
To assume the healing rhythm of the sea
And breathe the briny air
Where no-one knew me
Nor called my worn out name
Sweet freedom in isolation

And so, in smiling solitude
I walked and smoked too much
Staring at the moody ocean
As we all inevitably do
As though it holds answers
And indeed it does
The answer is "being"

One hot but breezy day
I followed the coast from north to south
Not too far but far enough
Until I came upon a harbour
Tiny and insignificant
But a harbour nonetheless
With a clutch of small boats
Bobbing and swaying lazily
On the backwater slack water tide
And somewhere close by
A nautical bell tolled the rhythm
Of an endless heedless movement
And an oddly comfortable melancholy
Rocked me in it's arms
Lost and found
Beginning and end

In as much as everything matters
Though nothing matters much
This place was nothing to me
No more than countless others
But that harbour bell
So patient and so constant
Touched something deeper than knowledge
Perhaps it was the state of my health
Or the glowing heat of the day
But some vulnerable receptor
Vibrated to that gentle toll
I've been in many places in my life
And seen wondrous famous sights
All seared into my minds eye
But their memories will last no longer
Than the haunting harbour bell

                                                By Phil Roberts

On cloudless moonlit nights
When the world is silver and darkest blue
And silence seems to reign supreme
If you stretch your hearing inwards
You will hear the distant moans
Of long lost lonely dreams
Homeless and obsolete
Fading away
To become endless shadows

                                           By Phil Roberts

There's a shower of rain
Yet the sun still shines
There must be a rainbow
Somewhere

An old man nods in his chair
He came from nowhere
And went nowhere else
Journeying all the way

Now he journeys through time
Down the aching years
Things that he's seen and done
Some good and wondrous
And some of them terrible

An old man nods in his chair
Travelling
Behind closed eyes
All the things he's seen and done
The people he's known
All the things he's said
Within his nodding head

Tears pour down his face
Down the canyons grooved by time
And yet he smiles
Gently and softly
There must be a rainbow
Somewhere

                       By Phil Roberts

If rock concerts came first
Would churches have been needed?

                                       By Phil Roberts

See through
Tall under the sun
Crawling beneath stars
In night-time skull
Thoughts behind eyes
Behind dreams
Under darkness
And above light

See through
Pretended truths
Without words or form
Shadow shapes
Lay like death
Choreographed corpses
Meaningless memories
Damaged dreams
Piled upon writhing hopes

See through
Tender tragedy
Daily despair
Grasping at lies like air
And in the stillness of dawn
The cold of morning light
Water drips
Or maybe blood
Tapping through silence

                                     By Phil Roberts

I didn't fall into disrepute
So much as occur there

                                    By Phil Roberts