/* Style Definitions */
{mso-style-name:”Table Normal”;
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;

Unfortunate Wretches
James WF Roberts

Daylight cuts savagely through
 the mid-morning gloom
another miserable night.
another night of hands upon the neck
feeling the love of her first man’s fist.
head in hands, she moves naked through
the house. Wiping the sleep from her eye
wiping the misery, the streak marks
under her eyes.
On the street below
he walks by.  Arm in arm
with the special one.
is this just an illusion
just a painful reminder of
what used to be…
his love for his euphoria
his boredom with her finally took hold.
Old man sits on a bench, devoted
to his only long term lover,
Life-long partner, whatever he
gets in a brown paper bag.
Ocean roars.
she knows what it’s time for
morning ritual. Same spot in her left arm.
belt around the forearm
the sexual desire, the burn for this feeling
the religious glow across her face

I watch her from my window.
Kids playing in the street
kicking a ball, wrestling, mocking each other’s
strength…girls walk by, the boys try desperately
to hide the fact they love what they just saw.
 Grey skies.
roaring beasts  of burden
soaring high above the world.
harsh green smoke hisses out around
kids on playing on this new avenue.
Monsters scream
a crack of thunder deafens the world
Hellfire rages.
buildings fall
Woman screams
no more kids are on the street.
Rivers of blood
stain Holy Places.
I’m drinking coffee
smoking cigarette.
wondering why I’ve lost another
lover—before the passion faded.
Bitching and moaning in the unemployment line
masturbated more than
I care to remember in the last few  days.
People on the street begging just for a shiny coin.
they walk through the food courts and parking lots,
blue cobble stone steps of a train station,
young boys indoctrinated into a street culture
they’re the wrong colour for, five thousand miles
across the other side of the planet…
they see these wretches—these the silenced
Boys see their chance. Lighter fluid and a mobile phone
kicking and pissing the poor old bastard on the street.
light him up—quick click here to watch it on youtube.



About jameswfrobertsdapoet

Emerging Poet and Writer. From Bendigo, Victoria, Australia. I present a show called Crazy Talk/Word Berserk, on I believe in what Phoenix has to offer. No where else will you get the diversity of Gospel, Country music shows, Koori themed shows and Poetry and Experimental music? My father, Bryan did a show on 3CCC in the 1980’s called the Keyboard Hour for a bout 8 years, until he died. That is partly why I joined Phoenix but mainly it’s because of the diversity we offer people and also I really do feel that we are an important vehicle, an important voice for the Community at Large. My interests are Poetry, Literature, Music, Movies, Cultural Awareness and Philosophical pursuits. My show is basically a Late Night Radio Show for Artists, Poets, Musicians and Creative Thinkers of all types to come and inform, enjoy, entertain and inspire each other. So join me and my guests from the local Artistic Community to be inspired, to be entertained and informed
Aside | This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s