What affirmed my affection was it mind or heart? Or did I already know as I often do. That moment in time a true friendship will start. Friendships pick and poke for proof at first. Like minds still unsure, await for better or worse. Until one by one kind comments of connection. Reaffirm as true those first knowing thoughts. Reaffirm as real, that first feeling of affection.
THE END OF FRIDAY NIGHT
by Paul Roberts
Little notes to say you are happy Some notes to say you're sad A little note so say sorry For all the times I was bad
An email to say thank you For all the things they did To tell them not to worry We'll see them soon enough
To the dead and the broken I miss you more than you know You cured me and broke me And you left me though
You just won't go away Left me blessed and haunted Like a good old joke Laughing and crying
You come to me at night In dreams of different times Mixed up with other Rhymes and other lines
A coin upon your eye And one over the bridge Another drink spilt Then one more for the house
REMEMBER NOT TO BULLY!
You all remember well, or knew the someone who was bullied. Whether at school or work, but you remember where it was. That the frightened person you saw bullied felt. More than often not the feeling of being painfully alone. You must and do remember who was bullied? You might remember well your part or not in the bullying of the someone that you knew. Someone forgotten who was bullied, someone like you? Pointing at long last fingers of blame towards the bullies from the past is up to you or us and them. But bullies from the now we sight will be met with more than all of our just might - tell. You all remember well, knew or sometimes saw the someone who was bullied. And with the years passed I hope it’s understood how sad it was that bullies did what bullies do. Which is why now me and you or you and I. Can say remember not to bully to all, knowing more than fully well the reason why.
I wrote this around 3 years ago and recently edited it. The original is here I don't know which I like best... pp x
WHEN I WAS A CAT
When I was a cat I fell in love with a dog
We had to keep it secret and we met on rooftops
He hated that
I loved the way he chased his tail
And I loved the way he watched me clean my whiskers
When he thought I didn't know
Sometimes when I caught him a mouse he didn't understand
And I pretended not to be upset
When he was feeling ill I would know
Because his nose would be dry has he nuzzled my ears
When I was feeling low he would lick my face
And know as he tasted my tears
He would spend hours chewing a bone
And I never understood why
Sometimes I wanted to be alone
And he pretended he wasn't hurt
When we had a play fight I would lose my temper and scratch his nose
He hated that
He asked one day why I did it
I said because I'm a cat
He hated that
When we parted I was sad
I said I'm sure we can make it work He chased me up a tree
I hated that
Good Night 13 Exeter Street (Joe Allen) - by Paul Roberts
There are ghosts here In this room that will disappear Long dead musical posters Aged bar no need for coasters
Yves commanded the bar Shooting drinks down so far To land in front of guests impressed Thirty years this place blessed
Richard managed from afar First restaurant that was a bar After eleven and with brunch Without him would not have been such
Rachel glowed at the door Taken early that is a sore My heart goes out to Louis and Brad All the times they could have had
With the chefs they were blessed Martin knew talent and addressed Social imbalances A real Mensch
Jimmy he could hold a tune He took Rock Hudson to Heaven On a hot hot night in London After puttin Liz Taylor in a taxi
And to all those that are still alive A little piece of us dies tonight
The place I found a wife The place I felt welcome Hugs and kisses from people I love
I think I am not alone in thinking This is a very sad night.
LUNA DOLINA by Paul Roberts
Old photos are not like mirrors I see that boy between the fissures The occasional fire in my eyes The ghost of youth that it belies When I look back now at images My face before it had ridges I see only the times in between And all the things that I have seen The people met and the drugs taking Experience brings beauty and awakening Each groove proves a lesson learnt Every line in my heart a poem burnt Now and then I drop the disguise Dance in a field and forget the lies For a night or two that lad again Especially when it pisses with rain Dancing with abandon and falling over Waking up with my face in clover A smile and thoughts so silly Because none of us grow up really And In 20 years I'll look back at me And a young boy is all I’ll see Paul Roberts
We saw this at festival 23 and fell in...LOVE XX
Did I Ever? - by Paul Roberts
Did you ever wake up screaming Thinking that the world is ending Spiders climbing up the wall Visions of the final fall
Did you ever wake up breathing Surprised to feel your blood flowing By rights you should be dead Is what all you friends said
Did you ever wake up bleeding Falling down the stairs and reeling Pain you felt was justly earnt Scars burnt and lessons learnt
Did you ever wake up crying Realising your heart is breaking It happens to everyone Father, brother, mother, son
Did you ever wake up hoping That you could break the rhythm For a better day I was striving A healing of the schism
What changes your life Is not always what happens It is how you see it it
Did you ever wake up happy?
Paul Roberts x
From To Gone
From road trips to train trips. Boxing fights and holiday flights. From design to music. Film and Art. To endeavour and discovery. Moon landings and conspiracy. Apart from selfishness. And being wrong. The golden days of everything. Have gone.
ANCHORS AND CHAINS.
Anchors and chains. Anchors and chains. For some such an important part of feeling freedom. A life line to steady a pitch dark nautical night. Against the might of the sea's storm's - Wild winds, waves and rains.
Anchors and chains. Anchors and chains. For some such a great worldly weight around the neck. Of anyone's once - forward looking face. Who now forget their hopes and dreams. Smiles and schemes.
Anchors and chains. Anchors and chains.
WHEN THE BEST PARTIES ENDED - dedicated to Adrian & Amanda
When the best parties ended. Corsica still full of that fond got it right familiar happiness. Moist from wet foreheads and lost damp coats in corners. Corsica happiness despite the broken Budvar bottles and half started soaked loo rolls. Strewn across more than all area's
Sometimes the power of the best party couldn't be halted. At times like these, which - rare but plenty. If I'm being honest. If i'm being true. Well at times like these we would crack on through.
The after party decks played out the perfect set. An oh so closed bar - so closed and yet... Adrian and Amanda would nod me with winks. A yes for their more than generous drinks. I would beg Adrian to play "Well What About Ponderosa?" Every time I would see where is it. As where it? He think's....
When the best parties ended I would see Amanda so happy. Holding court with Adrian, and in control. Of the Best Small club, the only club with a soul. When the best parties ended. In the extreme. Normally a Low Life, with it's Low Life loves you theme.
The flower market called - and with the clink of glasses on the last double..... Well - Thats what happened when the best parties ended... When you next see Adrian, if you talk about this. Just say : "Well What About Ponderosa?" I'll probably still be remembering, to rhyme last double - with Trouble.... pauliepaul
THE LONE WOLF OF SOHO
Thinking of long ago, of soho nights, and basement drinks. Of sheltering from rainat 3am; with tear stained cheeks and memories of new friends that owe me drinks; I'll never meet again. And now it's years gone by my tears have dried, the basements not as frequent now and strangers are left in peace to drink alone. Well now and then the lone wolf returns inside to drag me into Holborn doorways to find homeless concert pianist's. Who fell from grace yet cling to hope; as they cling to their hostel place. Along with scoundrels but also people kind who care for others without this rhyme or reason.
And then I venture underground. Every one is still as ice as they travel on their lonely way. A hundred feet below and a million lonely souls play at life through a tired transport network revolving around a victorian dream. That now forgets to say hello and how are you, and look each other in the eye; for fear of communicating. God forbid a Northerner with things to say, because he's suffered only a day And years will wear him down; he'll soon be looking at the ground when asked for change by someone who may be needing help. But he won't see, because he needs the help as well. As he's close to cracking with his life on the corner of a page he's been reading for ten years or more.
THE BOOK I MIGHT HAVE WRITE
Thinking on long of the book I might write. It's setting would be primarily. The deeper dark of all night.
The protagonist I would say. Will be fighting life & law by the hour. With many more flaws than the Trellick tower.
Thinking on then further. On the film of the book. Financed with some or other filthy cash that we took.
The protagonist now show's some signs of sanity. And has a pretty voiced love interest. With an urge to help humanity.
Then when at the ending. They hold each other in the rain. Hail a taxi with wet faces, and give the cat a name.
I'm thinking on long of the book I might write. And re - reminded of my death by Roland Barthes. I've decided it's too so novel, such so I may not start.
Ken Sims x
FATHER AND DAUGHTER TO SEE -for my lovely Jo after the death of her beloved father x
Watching her love and admiration surface. Animated with a love she can't hide. Reaching into a past to find the man behind her father. Who loved her more, for far and wide.
Hearing a tribute from a lovely wrinkled face. And behind it a friend with many shared years. That opens a thought to confirm her fathers kindness. To confirm her fathers cares.
I love watching her love and admiration surface. She and I know it was always a part of her. Just as his pride and love for her shone out to me. Father and daughter to see, as close as can be.