Sidney P. Roberts II was born in Spring 1970 in Walson Army Hospital, Fort Dix, New Jersey, where they raised the colors at dawn and soldiers ran by singing. He lives in San Diego, California. He is the author of Small Moments, SUNDOWNERS, and SPEARMAKER: love, war and musings from the blue-backed notebook. They are all collections of short fiction and poetry.

In going where he has to go and doing what he has to do and writing the words which he must write, he tries to keep the notion about him that the most astounding feats, the most heart felt poems, and the stories which pry into one’s soul often come from those non-descript strangers sitting quietly alone in dark corners, who we know little or nothing about.

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Sidney P. Roberts II Poems

Kiss Me Hard

When I’m with you baby I feel totally mad and out of control,
I feel deep in Indian territory with a full head of hair,
The insanity of love and lust grabs me and jerks me and throws me around,
At once I surrender to you and am completely vulnerable,... more »

A Vision This Day

A vision had I this day in a flash
Of my one true love held close
Sharing for shelter a woolen blanket
Atop a snowy hill at sunrise... more »

He Wandered Through Sunlight And Laughter

The headline read HE WANDERED THROUGH SUNLIGHT AND LAUGHTER. And it was all about me. And bathing in this my sun and laughing in this my laughter realizing solitude and nature and accepting it kicking up musical leaves I walked north and came upon the trail that leads to Canada. And at that moment a summer breeze so softly blew so I stopped to take it in. And glancing a moment for novelty back at Mexico listening in that clearing I heard a small something. It was just me out there carrying rations for one and notebook and camera but I heard something then I’m sure of it. Like a poem. Little bitty poem upon the wind. And it almost just came, almost. It was just almost right there. Something about a spot against a wall where my old friend my lover I held dear did first hold me tender. And unfastened buttons and plunged her dark face and pressed sweet lips to my bare chest and my neck on this side and on this side and on these two very lips. And said the wind to me: Do you see? Do you understand? Do you see where she kissed me? She kissed me here. And I kissed her back and it was good.

And as I reached for the notebook easy as that soft wind whispered to me that poem and easy as I stood on the trail listening and recalled those moments the wind ceased falling silent and that tiny little bitty poem went away. So with the notebook in one hand and the pen in the other I kept on marching toward the unknown place on some high hill where I hoped to make fire and sit and eat and rest and be. But as I walked I was saying where did it go where did it go what happened to it. And thinking and breaking it all down I remembered again how I discovered long ago that the place where poems go when they die must be the same place they were before they were born. It has to be. That’s where they go. So wandering through this sunlight I no longer laughed. But I say to you dear reader whoever you are that you will be when you die exactly where you were before you were born. As is my dear old friend my lover. As is the soft poem whispered to me by that summer wind while I kicked up leaves. As are these words. As am I and as are all other living things.... more »

Sidney P. Roberts II Quotes

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