A Memory or Two

Introducing Mr Harley

I wore black knee-high socks
Except they were more over the knee
Heading towards the thigh High
And some kind of cute little black boots.

The heels were slightly wobbly
Or was that me attempting to impress?
I don’t know
I never saw myself as the impressive type.

Then there was the skirt
The less said about that the better
But it went well with the vest
and the military jacket you’d bought me
The birthday before.

You wore those Levi’s…again
With that blue checked shirt
They always looked good
You always looked good
As did you and I
Or so you said.

Jack and coke joined us
Several times I recall
No ice or a slice
Just straight or not at all.

Our seats were just perfect
The lights moody
Yet soft
Unlike the tune up
Or that bloke with the cough.

But none of that mattered
As he came on the stage
I squealed with delight,
…while you laughed quietly to yourself.

I never embarrassed you did I?
Although I think I often tried
Just to see if I could
You never said
I think you secretly enjoyed it.

Still, I cried at the song
Do you remember the one?
Held your hand as the tears
gently fell.
Clapped and cheered at the end,
Yeah he did it again
Mr Harley
The Rebel
The One.


Reah Roberts ©2005

A Memory or Two


The window opened
You liked The Beatles too
But the volume was far too low
Your opinion was noted.

Tea was offered
You stayed the night
Got drunk on my smile
It was like that for a while
Although my memory may be lying.

Long hair flowing;
Your waterfall of grey
The intrigue of a stranger
No sense of danger
That laid back style
Something I craved
And yeah
Cravings can become addictive.

Sunglasses hiding
Those sweet baby blues
The faded Levi’s
A sign of adventure.
How true that would out to be.

My mind wandered down
To your feet with a smile
In that innocent style
You know, when you look
and hope no one can see.

I talked
Did no more
Thought I should
Never could
You intrigued me unique to the core.

Conversations caught fire
Mild flirtations
Quenched my thirst
For knowledge
And more.

I had nothing to offer
Only smokes and
the offer
Of friendship for life
Maybe more.
Was there more?
Not quite sure.

But still we’re confusing
them all.

Reah Roberts ©2013

Tales From A Broken Society


Thin veils of sincerity
Truth brought out on special occasions
Like mother’s best china
Even then its behaviour Questionable
The void encasing you
Sucking the life
The spirit
Even from the most determined.

Illicit fumbling’s
Lowercase mumblings
The back alley friendship of a modern age
Feelings falsely placed in the back pocket
Saved for those easier to manipulate
Life’s wallet empty and overspent.

It’s easier this way
Interaction on your terms only
The click of a key
Nurturing the lonely
Social media playing the tune
Its melody deceiving
As we dance awkwardly
Typing our way
Through this vacuous creation.

Reah Roberts ©2013

Tales from Nowhere

I Wonder.

I wonder if to bear your soul in order to banish inner demons is really the best way to go?
Or does it make you the kind of person that friends ignore because all they want is the LOL’s and the distance modern-day friendship brings.

I wonder if people understand that sometimes to be asked ‘How are you’ is the one question you dread?
The answer no longer able to hide the insanity that eats away your soul, chaining you to the walls of inner torment.

I wonder if they know that sometimes the only way to cope is to search the cess pool of emotion we call life for an answer?
Not laden them with the responsibilities you yourself have to face.

I wonder if they know that to talk things through is not always possible?
As despair chokes the words while complacency looks on laughing.

I wonder if they know what it means to be truly alone in the ‘Real ‘world?
Or that those you’ve made on the great www. are usually the be all and end of human interaction.

I wonder if they’d believe me if I told them why this is?
Or whether they’d ask why because they felt they should.

I wonder if they’d listen if I were to try to explain?
Or if they’d understand just how much they’ve come to mean to me.

I wonder if the joy I’ve felt since they’ve entered my world is real?
Or if they’d accept this wretched soul can no longer pretend that everything’s Ok.

I wonder if they’d understand if I told them Maria doesn’t exist in Reah’s world and that over this I have no control?

I Wonder.

R.M Roberts ©2010