The King spoke upon the mount to thousands who’d come far. His words would change the world. Did he know how much? Yes, he did. The same way he knew He would be betrayed, and on his cross on Golgotha, … Continue reading The King Spoke. A poem.
He stared at the mirror, at the composite he had become. It held a reflection capturing his bitterest Hyde and Jekyll moments. He placed his hand firmly on the vanity, turned on the tap and watched the water spiral down … Continue reading Coriolis. A short tale.
Bereft. A haiku trilogy. 1. Ebb The last ebb of life, seeping like sweat from my pores. Let it go, you fool. 2. Ash My heart is sliced from my chest, burned alive; all feeling, now ash. 3. Bereft My solution lost upon a sea bereft of possibility. . Well, I hope you’ve had a better week than me. Steve 🙂 Continue reading Haiku Friday. ‘Bereft’, a haiku trilogy.
When will I be free of this life and all its bitter swill? Force fed, every grueling meal mixed with bile and contempt, returned to sender in a spray of misgivings, a spent force that paints the tile in acrimonious colour. When will this life leave me be, so I can rest in audacious peace? When will I sleep and dream of nothing, free from pain and imagination that only ever led me astray. When will I break the chains you locked me in, through no fault of your own. When will I leave this sad and weary shell behind, … Continue reading When (part 3). A poem.
When did I lose you? When did I turn my back on you, then turned around and you were gone? When did any hint of recognition leave your eyes. When did I become a third wheel, constantly turning out of place in time and space. When did this supple heart grow dried and worn, to wither in the sun like a weed. When did I lose the will to be with you, let the scales unbalance and my love be cast aside in bitter rebuke. When will I ever learn? Continue reading When (part 2). A poem.
When I talk to you, when I’m lost to the sanguine artfulness of your words. When your silken, soothing tones surround me like the warmest winter blanket. When the only light I need to guide me is in your rainbow eyes and sunshine smile. When the aspect of your face is the only solitary star in the darkening sky. That’s when I know I’m home. And that’s when I awake and know I’m still alone. Continue reading When (part 1). A poem.
I went to the mall with my aged parents to do some Christmas shopping. Note to self: find some excuse next time to avoid going with aged parents to the mall to do Christmas shopping. I don’t dislike my parents–I love them very much. All the more so because they’re allowing me to live under their roof until my property settlement is finalised. In fact, I don’t mind sitting with them in a car or at lunch and hearing them squabble over the smallest and most ridiculous things, as long-term married couples do. Here’s some other things I don’t mind, … Continue reading Shopping with the Olds
I’ve tried to forget you (I don’t want to forget you). My emotions lay on the table like spilt wine; I tried to lick them up in a desperate alcoholic binge, without a care for my fellow patrons’ regard. Why are you fading from my mind, like an Alzheimer memory, like the seaside whispers of a shell, broken to pieces. I’ve betrayed me, so. I’ve let you go. I should let slip the dogs of war to chew on my weary bones, to remind me that I’m just a lonely man, that you’re just a lonely woman and that soon … Continue reading Game Over. A poem.
I created Chuck for one of my short stories, written for uni. Following is a character study I wrote for him. If you’re not familiar with a character study, it’s used to develop a character’s background and personality traits. From … Continue reading Chuck. A character study.
I read about twenty negative reviews of Zack Snyder and Joss Whedon’s Justice League prior to going. I took my son with me to see it and we and everyone else in the theatre had a fantastic time. Screw you, … Continue reading Justice League. A movie review.
Wings – a haiku pentalogy 1. Moment One tragic moment to turn your heart into ice; extinguish the flame. 2. Deficiency Such deficiency within your mind, body and soul. Pray you find the light. 3. Your Turn Heaven weeps tonight with all the unworthy souls. Is it your turn now? 4. Redeemed Walk the endless night, a tightrope of redemption. Return on gold wings. 5. Open Arms Dare you try to fly into heaven’s open arms? The earth holds you firm. . Wow, this became a bit of a 5/7/5 syllable opus. Oh well, sometimes poems have a literal life … Continue reading Haiku Friday. ‘Wings’, a haiku pentalogy.
She is the subtle knife, slid between the ribs of reason. The subtle knife that slides into my heart and cuts it up, with far less subtlety than I deserve. Continue reading The Subtle Knife. A poem.
What are the issues that you especially want to talk about / celebrate / examine in your stories? There are a lot of stories in the world. There are many more hovering in the random threads and wings of my … Continue reading What do you want to write?
You conquered me like a mountain (or a molehill). Climbed me and then left me here, another spire to aspire to. Was I just a rocky crag used as a monument to your success? What was my reward, just a wanton moment, better to forget? Here I stand, wind blown and forever circumspect, a peak waiting on another expedition. Hopefully, one that’ll show me more respect. My first book of poetry, The All or the Nothing, is available now as an e-book from most online distributors. To find out more, click here. Continue reading Peak. A poem.
I watched the black rain from my window. It spilled down the pane in tarry streaks, a Malevich canvas. I watched the flowers gently steam and wilt. The dark water spilled down onto the road and into the gutters. It flowed into the sewers and thence to the sea. There it merged with chemicals, plastics, dead fish and carcinogens, taking its rightful place amongst humanity’s leavings. Black rain spilled down my cheeks in tarry streaks. Continue reading Black Rain. A poem.
Laidback DM: SteveStillStanding.com 