A Thought for Every Word

Archive for April, 2012

Reaper Heart

when you are on opposing sides
and no one knows your name
will you think to cross the street
and venture in the game
when life is just a second chance
and no one sees your face
will you think to roll the dice
and accept a second place
when world weary with tired feet
and no one hears your cries
will you sit and feel the sun
and listen to bitter sighs
when your breath leaves your lungs
and no ones feels the air
will you shout to hear your voice
and pretend that you don’t care
when time fleeting cuts you off
and no one stops to aid
will you wince and struggle too
and consider your debt paid
when life has taken its last breath
and no ones stands to see
will you gasp and sputter hence
and will you then be free
it matters not whose side you’re on
or game you think to play
nor caring not the tears you cry
or words you choose to say
when time claims the mortal flesh
and youth is spent and gone
then reaper heart will sad proclaim
at last her deed is done

Salted Wounds

I have ridden on the backs of dolphins 
and floundered searching for breath
when all the seas come crashing down
and ghost ships land on bitter swells
I have rested in the shadowed trees
and swayed among scattered branches
when summer shudders and autumn falls
and the sunlight pales to silver strands
I have walked in snow filled steps
and wondered at the intrepid boots
when all other strides are missing
and heavy arch has cracked the surface
I have known a burdened sorrow
and held it tight against my breast
when all the light has left the sky 
and hearts break upon the marble
I have questioned my validity
and frowned with great intent
when words drop on salted wounds
and the bleeding does not cease
I have loved more than I should
and accepted the pittance gratefully
when love has simply stopped being
and retreats as seafoam at my feet
Yes, I have ridden scattered branches
and known a burdened heart
when all light has been bled away
and love has simply stopped 

Single Heart

When night falls upon
cerulean crowned silence,
A lone heart beat is
as the peal of a single bell
A clear note impeded
not by the dense night,
nor the veil that settles
over the sleep seekers
It echoes in the hollows
of empty stalwart corners,
keeping sentry still
in the shadows
Held on the air
among the silver tips
of slivered moonbeams,
carried on the backs
of caped night owls
Heart beat tolls 
and falls
like rain on the ocean,
and disappears beneath
leviathan wings of
cerulean crowned silence

Scar Tissue – Review by Tom Webb ~ A Bear On Books

For me, seeing the characters of my stories in my head is like breathing.  It just comes naturally…after a slap to the bottom.  Once started the characters make their way into my everyday life until I commit them to paper (or in this case cyberpaper). When I first met Bob Elkins and Mike Wells, they were just two men with similar backgrounds.  Fiercely patriotic, strong, and confident.  They stuck with me until I wrote three novels with them, then a novella to introduce them, and describe how they met and fell in love.  They became very dear friends of mine, and putting them down for others to read was like raising children.  They had to be nurtured and cared for, tended and grown.  Their story had to be real to me. Something I could touch and see.  The era in which the story would take place, had to linger on my fingers as I typed.  My characters had to be steeped in the teabag water of the time.  Once the story was written, my first question to myself was “Will anyone understand my characters?”  I waited for the reviews.

Book reviews are often subject to the reviewer’s preference in many things; style, voice, length, character type, story line.  All will set the mood for a reviewer.  It is when the reviewer gets my characters that I want to read the review over and over again.  Sharing it with my friends and family; with the strange little man down the hall, or the neighbor upstairs.  I want to take out an ad that reads “He got my characters!”  and post the ad on every empty wall.  That is what I am doing here.  My novella, Scar Tissue, received a Highly Recommended from Tom Webb over at A Bear On Books.  The link to the review and Tom’s site is shown below.  Please pop over and read the review, and check out Tom’s other reviews while you are there.  His reviews are honest assessments of the stories he has read.  He reviews the story, and that is what every author should wish to happen to them.  Please check out Tom’s review of Scar Tissue here:


To Buy Scar Tissue please go here:


G.L. Roberts’s books on Goodreads

Scar TissueScar Tissue

reviews: 9
ratings: 41 (avg rating 4.15)


Guest Blog Spot at KoolQueerLit

Guest blogging on koolqueerlit.com today.  Come learn a little bit about me and my current writing genre.

Thanks for stopping by!

How to Guest Blog When Your Muse Refuses to Cooperate

A short while ago, I became a published Author.  I was excited of course, but then the awful gut wrenching what ifs starting popping up with every new keystroke.  Everyone, everywhere can understand the concept of the what ifs. They are universal.  They know no boundary of color, race, creed, gender, or ice cream flavor preference.  They sneak in like flies, first one, then another, multiplying into a hoard of buzzing nonsense.  What if the book doesn’t sell?  What if I get the most abominable case of writer’s block? What if I never write another book, let alone another paragraph, another sentence, another great word?  Those pesky what ifs can cast a pall so dense you need a torch the size of Lady Liberty’s in order to even see the glare of the computer screen.  I struggled to shake the what ifs.

My publisher suggested a guest blog spot on a blog that hosts other authors of my current genre.  Guest Blog?  Me?  When I can’t even get a coherent sentence framed that even my neighbor’s seven year old could understand?  What about?  And more importantly why?  To grow your audience, to bring in new readers to your published work, to make new friends, influence people, become a star!  Well, okay maybe not an overnight sensation, especially if you read my first attempt at guest blogging, tomorrow April 12, 2012, on KoolQueerLit.com.  My feeble attempt to promote myself will be viewed by several, perhaps many, and I am already second guessing myself and the content.

The nice thing about guest blogging is that you can start and stop all you want, as the content does not go live the moment you submit it, unless you are invited to guest blog a ‘live’ interview.  For the most part, you can write your copy; stare at it for days, then edit, slash, burn, destroy and start all over again. Provided, that is, that your muse does not leave to get a cup of coffee and then decides to get said coffee in Costa Rica, leaving you alone in the Pacific Northwest. A muse is a funny creature; never around when you really and truly desire the help.   I cursed my muse.  I begged my muse.  I even offered bribes like an extra shot of Crown Royal, or a large gooey cinnamon roll.  Nothing worked.  I was stuck writing my guest blog copy alone, without a creative juice to be squeezed out of my desert dry brain.  I had all the adages from my childhood to fall back on.  You don’t start walking at birth, you learn how to.  You don’t start reading words, you start by learning letters.  Okay, I thought, I can do this…one step, and one letter at a time.

It was not as bad an experience as I first thought.  My guest blog copy is not earth shaking, nor is it ground breaking.  I do not offer a cure for hate and intolerance, there is no recipe linked.  Then again, that is not what I was asked to blog about in the first place.  I went to introduce myself as a new Author, with a first published book, in hopes of finding a new following for my style of writing, and the stories I want to tell. It was a first for me, and I will admit, I hope it is not the last.  Guest blogging is not open heart surgery even though your heart pounds with every word.  What it is, is the free association of words that move you, the blogger.  That is the advice I decided to take…free association of words that move me, the blogger.

You may offer your muse all manner of bribe and consideration, but in the end, it will be you, your words, that make the appearance as the guest blogger.  Perhaps, your muse will read what you managed to write without their help, and realize they can be replaced.  Just like your blog, your muse is subject to your whims of fancy.

View my guest blog here:

Note: koolqueerlit.com contains adult themed content and may not be suitable for anyone under the age of 17.

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