Sunshine Blogger Award. I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of bringing sunshine, unless it was out of my…

Thanks, Mairi, for nominating me for the Sunshine Blogger award. Please check out Mairi’s cool blog, Hitting 60! It’s always nice to be nominated, but it takes me so long to write a post about it – DOH! I may be a mature-age student with little to do, but I have only limited time inContinue reading “Sunshine Blogger Award. I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of bringing sunshine, unless it was out of my…”

Whirlpool. A poem.

My head is spinning, lost in your days/daze. Your whirlpool pulls me down. I clamber for extant purchase, a drowning man on your razor edge, gormlessly clutching at eidetic straws as water chokes my lungs. Your centrifugal force, it wears my patience paper thin, teaches me mock restraint and leaves me listless upon a narrowingContinue reading “Whirlpool. A poem.”

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle. A Movie Review.

No Spoilers! My son dragged me (literally) to see the new Jumanji film. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Four teens given school detention find an old game machine with the Jumanji game loaded. They are sucked into the video game-world of Jumanji, where they take on the roles of fourContinue reading “Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle. A Movie Review.”

Icarus. A poem.

My love is Icarus, screaming on molten wings, searing clouds with body heat; an elevator ride straight down to my beckoning crypt. The ground is a winsome friend, cajoling me as I approach. The flames are streamers as I hit the finish line: winner? loser? both. The wreckage of my fuselage lies scattered over milesContinue reading “Icarus. A poem.”

Upstart Photographer #6 – Dogs and Monuments

When I’m walking the dog around town (not my own black dog*, mind you, although he is always with me), I often pass by monuments that look pretty cool. Naturally, I want to take a picture of them. Here are some black and white, unfiltered (but slightly cropped) photos of things I’ve passed. Below isContinue reading “Upstart Photographer #6 – Dogs and Monuments”

The Sale. Part 18.

Junifer Vasilikov limped closer. In the moonlight we could make out a ghastly, bloody smear covering her features. Her hands were empty. “My mother was killed by a vacuum cleaner,” she said, wearily. Aisha leapt to her feet, knife at the ready. I stood up and we faced Crazy Junifer, together. I raised my handsContinue reading “The Sale. Part 18.”

Longing. A poem.

The loving and the longing soaked into heart and soul. Sponges wrung at a moment’s notice, all captured in a bucket and mopped across the entirety of my empty little world. Here loving words are written on lonely pages in electric cursive, tempting fate with imagery born of perceptive symbiosis. Singular takes on whole newContinue reading “Longing. A poem.”

Sucker Punch. A short tale, revisited.

Here’s a flash fiction I wrote a while back. It wasn’t seen by many at the time, so I’ve decided to re-blog it in the hope that more may get the chance to read it. https://stevestillstanding.com/2017/06/24/sucker-punch-a-short-tale/ Hope you like it. Cheers Steve 🙂    

Cut. A poem.

When the bone wails in time to my beating, breaking heart, and the blood curdles along with my myopic tears. I will reach for thee and mark my emboldened flesh in your honour. I will scour my skin indelicately so that I might feel again, so that I might wallow in my weariness and paintContinue reading “Cut. A poem.”

The Sale. Part 17.

The climb down was a blur of motion and fear. The air was musty, mouldy and laced with the smell of our sweat-soaked and angst-ridden bodies. At the bottom of the ladder, we stood before the exit panel to the basement storeroom. Aisha gripped the knife tightly, ready to stab anyone who might be waitingContinue reading “The Sale. Part 17.”

Judgement. A poem.

No longer angry, now the sum of abject humiliation and shame. I stand before you in mute testimony; judgement rests upon me, a crow upon a broken scarecrow. All I can do is drink in this desolate ambiance, and lower my head in acceptance. Every bitter face and whisper slices me like pages from aContinue reading “Judgement. A poem.”

Upstart Photographer #5. More B&W’s.

Here in my existential and physical womb, among my countless random thoughts and semi-branded column headers, I’ve decided to present yet more amateurish attempts at photography. I’ve stuck with black and white this week, even though it can be a bit depressing. (If you’re a regular reader you’ll know I’m depressed enough without making myselfContinue reading “Upstart Photographer #5. More B&W’s.”

The Rain and the Heart. A poem.

Rain swaddles the land in an embrace of dewy tears. Thunder racks like winded sobs from the chest of the earth, punctuated by lightning strands sewing clouds together. Here in my womb, I lie and listen. My tears fall in time to the incessant, hammering drumbeat that subsumes everything but my yearning for you. SteveContinue reading “The Rain and the Heart. A poem.”

Waiting, wanting, waning.

I’m waiting at the Legal Aid office to get some advice about my upcoming property settlement. Needless to say it’s a dull experience, punctuated by the typing on my iPhone, the shuffle of papers, the muffled choke of a straining air conditioner and the murmurs of hushed and sullen conversations. It’s not as depressing asContinue reading “Waiting, wanting, waning.”

Hello. A poem.

Linked by thoughts known and unknown; blinkered and guileless, liberated, yet uncertain. Your hand brushed mine and every inhibition was washed away by a rain of dream-soaked inebriation: You had me at “hello”. Steve is a sad and angst-filled poet, who needs your help to continue being one. His first book of poetry, The AllContinue reading “Hello. A poem.”

Child of God. A book review.

Cormac McCarthy is a damn fine writer. He’s also a very disturbing one. Child of God is one of his older books (1973), and tells the story of Lester Ballard, a lonely and erstwhile Tennessee hick who loses his home to live a vagrant life in the mountains. Lester comes across a dead couple inContinue reading “Child of God. A book review.”

In Between. A poem.

Would that I could rend this universe asunder to bring you that much closer to me. So near our timid outstretched fingertips could touch, so near we could taste each other’s stuttering exhaled breath and our carbon dioxide could mingle like salient bacteria. Every rapid-fire conversation and reluctant discussion disguised as commentary or immersive peerContinue reading “In Between. A poem.”

Alive. A poem.

I am ALIVE. I see all that is and was, every incongruous and congruous method and selection, tied and untied from destiny’s disaffected strings. I am ALIVE. I have dwelled in the shadow of death’s supple embrace, where carbon monoxide bonds easily with erythrocytes, in a long-term family reunion. I have turned away in regretContinue reading “Alive. A poem.”

Guide to the Unrequited Love Affair

Unrequited Love. That thing you have when you don’t have a thing—Clayton’s love (okay, only oldies may get that joke). Here’s a short guide on how to do it: Fall in love with a person who is far too good for you, or is unobtainable. This could be a ‘love at first sight’ thing, orContinue reading “Guide to the Unrequited Love Affair”

Love/Hate. A poem.

LOVE The reason why I do everything I do The reason why everything I touch is ruined The reason why I’m always left the fool The reason why I always come back to you The reason why I’m always left the fool The reason why everything I touch is ruined The reason why I doContinue reading “Love/Hate. A poem.”

The Sale. Part 16.

At the top of the stairs, another corridor: four sets of doors, two on each side. Aisha smiled grimly. “I know this part of the house. The bedroom I hid in is the last door on the left.” “The secret passage,” I said. “We can take the ladder down to the pantry and double backContinue reading “The Sale. Part 16.”

Rancid. A poem.

All my rancid surprise, broken and doubtful, flayed thoughts drifting behind sullen and tired eyes. So many unspoken wishes given lonesome flight from these effluent cliffs of anger and despair; all the improbable, impossible angst, the seething pain that my aimless tossing and turning will allow. I linger on the edge. my toes sense theContinue reading “Rancid. A poem.”

Upstart Photographer#4. Book Shelves.

I am, and always will be, a lover of books. I currently live in a back room of my parent’s house (no job, no money; lonely but creative), surrounded by their bookshelves and my own. So, what better topic than photos of shelves? In gorgeous black and white, of course. I’ve included a friend’s bookshelves,Continue reading “Upstart Photographer#4. Book Shelves.”

Trapped. A poem.

You’ve trapped me again, your maze of hedges and hidden paths has me wandering, lost and praying, searching for myself and scrying for deliverance. My head wants out, each brittle burst of logic and sedentary reason tracing a path to set me free. I may be turned around for hours and days and months andContinue reading “Trapped. A poem.”

There is no cure for being short.

I’m not in the habit of bagging blogs. But I came across one the other day which purported to provide remedies for various ailments. The post that first drew my attention was about five ways to increase your height. Yes, you read that correctly: your height. And, yes, it was serious. The post listed theContinue reading “There is no cure for being short.”

Anew. A poem.

I reach with spider lines of filigree fanning out to touch the universe and in your winsome eyes I see the love at length I will traverse. Across the stars, to circumvent stormy nebulae within your heart, your storied pain, I will prevent; navigate and birth a brand new start. . Steve is a literalContinue reading “Anew. A poem.”

Down again. A poem.

Down, again, and the anxious riptide in my brain wills and drags me to sullen depths, where the ocean bed is pock marked with tears and fears and ample insomniac nights. Down, again, and every fading couple in the street with supple smiles and ignorant eyes just make me want to waste awhile, and shrinkContinue reading “Down again. A poem.”

Free Dungeon Map!

Time for another of my (currently) irregular Laidback DM posts, and a new free map! Map drawing for D&D adventures is my thang. I have far too many maps, so I’m giving them away every chance I get. This week: They Came from Outer Space! You can use this map for any type of RPG,Continue reading “Free Dungeon Map!”

Upstart Photographer #3: Black and White.

I love black and white photos. They seem to capture a rawness, a natural quality that is sometimes lost in the way digital images capture colour. I’m no expert, of course, and I’m sure some real photographers out there could explain just what it is that makes black and white photos so cool. The cityContinue reading “Upstart Photographer #3: Black and White.”

My River. A poem.

My river: your familiar effulgence, wrapping my distress in your gracious tributaries. Changing my name to chance whilst fate looks on, somewhat perturbed but unmoved all the same. My river: sweeping me through your conquering rapids, beating my insensitive brow, slashing my effluent heart, shaking my corpulent bones, until I rest again on your everContinue reading “My River. A poem.”