Stealthy. A poem.

You sneak into my world

past locks, alarms, sigils, wards 

down corridors of fatalistic compromise

through rooms of idealistic circumspection

and find me waiting earnestly

wanting, more or less

what you want

no need to be so stealthy 

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Hurricane Heart. A poem.

Transfixed by you,
statuesque in the hurricane,
riding tempestuous
slipstream currents—
a goddess of hail
and happenstance.

You’re a lightning rod,
attracting joules
and fools like me,
incontrovertibly
shattering stratospheric records
like a pheromone cyclone.

After your storm has passed,
and the sun breaks
the clotted clouds,
I’m the only windswept survivor:
shaken, stirred, shocked,
and praying for yet more rain,

to turn this aching, burnished desert
into fields of dew-swept gold.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Avoidance. A poem.

I avoid you when I see you, now.
Not ships passing in the night
but rather garbage scows,
no more trashy encounters or the like.

No potential head-ons or man overboard,
now endlesss drunken shanties to help me smile
While in my mind I sing long of discord,
blue notes to accompany my alibi.

And all the while
trying to forget I knew you.

A quick two step and I’m a private dancer,
skirting the alleyway to miss your eyes.
Ultimately, I’ll hold myself together
as I always have, or so I’d like.

The weight of my regret—two tonnes—
It pulls me down when you’re around.
And so, under the carpet, swept,
the bitter thoughts and all I’ve left.

I’m trying to forget I knew you.

And that’s been unsuccessful, too.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Fell For You. A poem.

I don’t know why I fell for this—
it was obvious you were oblivious,
and my dreams were cloaked
in pointlessness.

I don’t know why you caught my eye,
why I invested all my precious time
creating a melodious portfolio,
that you alone inspired.

Who did I want you to be
when you looked on me so distantly,
you were just a narcissistic,
attention-seeking tragedy.

You didn’t realise the truth:
we were meant to be as one, you see,
and be like living poetry.

But, then again, you never knew.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Hurt (happy when I see you). A poem.

I hurt when I see you,
a mad combination of anger and pride.
Selfish and shallow,
Tear-filled and callow.
So glad you’re doing well;
I know you wallowed for awhile,
as indeterminate as I.
Now, you’re bouncing,
a supercharged rubber ball,
denying the laws of physics.

I’m happy when I see you,
but know I see right through you.
Liquid transparency in our eyes,
like life and death combined.
Memories fade but the rearview
ghosts will always stay the same.
I’m glad you made your way
and left me wandering
in front of headlights,
a deer awaiting the next
bull bar and asphalt kiss.

I hurt, but I’m happy when I see you.

Maybe you do, too.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Quake. A poem.

I have spoken long with you
so many, many times,
each airy conversation
measuring low on a Richter scale
that never rises much
beyond the surface—

no evidence of my success
just artful whimsy
it never shakes your earth.

Just once I’d have you see beyond
the artifice I’ve set in place,
to the real, the bold, the dreams,
the grace—
let it grind tectonically
and crumble these placid walls
to reveal what’s behind the facade.
To be a quake worth waiting for.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Intoxicated. A poem.

I was so into you—
every thought, every move,
was a riot of ecstasy
that shook me to my core.

More than destiny,
more than waking dreams
or midnight fantasies.
You were the bottle
and I was the alcoholic
reaching for just one more drink;
just a crazy intoxicant,
a fevered dream
that burned me up,
like a tenement fire
in a city-lost soul.

But like every addict
I had to come back down.
And when I finally touched ground,
shivering and drenched,
the cold light of day
reflected in my pain,
I realised the time had come
to give up the drink
and become a better whole.

And you?
I guess you became
someone else’s need,
someone else’s game.

Someone else to blame.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Shiver. A poem.

This shiver, a sliver
of ions up my spine,
a delectable point
of contention on my mind
shaping continuities
of ecstasy, baking
hormones in my pituitary,
activated by your touch
in mine.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Your Kiss. A poem.

Your kiss
takes me to places
I’ve been before
and long to revisit.

When the voyage is over
I’m longing
for that travel bug
to capture and
enrapture me again.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Plague. A poem.

Why do you still plague me, so?
To inhabit me like a parasite,
gouging out my pale insides?
Churning up my hopeless dreams
like milk into aromatic cheese,
to accompany sides and crackers,
all the pieces left of me.

I tried to clear you out,
to tear up those thoughts
of you that lingered in
the shadow of my doubt.

But you are a constant here:
no razor can cut you free,
no serpentine threat can take
you away, as far as I can see.
I suppose that I am stuck with you,
like a whittling scar, or cancer tumour,
to eat me up in my pretence,
to despoil my thoughts
while I am lost in bitterness.

Your brilliance, it seems, forever blinds,
through my mind’s venetians,
you will forever shine.
I’ll long for you and wait for you
and die for you, as I always do.

A constant plague in my infected soul,
a longing and a long-lost goal.

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Fumes of You. A poem.

Your scent was different,
lingering in my nostrils,
a whiff of nostalgic free fall
and extra sensory motion.
The fumes of you twisted
around me and consumed
every pore and fibre
of my unwholesome being.
Should I have let that smell
overwhelm me as it did before
when I threw subtle caution
to the heedless wind?
Then you were gone
and the flames and fumes
died, as they always did.
All that was left, the memory
of your trackless bouquet.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Vagrant Heart. A poem.

And now every time I pass by you,
I remember when you were my muse.
My inspiration, a living rhyme
to hang my aching heart, in time.

          (I could and did, ‘til I was blue,
          write many volumes, just for you.
          But you never read and never knew,
          enigmas all and yet so full.)

Words flowed like the torrential rain,
now they flow right down the drain,
the endless drain out to the sea,
where tender mercies float and dream.
I’ll never know if you ever wondered,
guessed, assumed, or maybe stumbled,
upon the musings of my heart
disguised as metaphor in part.
I guess I was the greatest fool
for thinking you could love me, too.
I guess my words were wasted art,
the rantings of a vagrant heart.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

 

Twosome. A poem.

You creep up on me
An inveterate stalker
A ghostly presence
A firefly somnambulist
(Shadowing its prey)

You wrap me up
(A Christmas treat)
In sunflower petals
An itinerant limpet
Squeezing me senseless

You take me down
And bleed me until dry
Subcutaneous showers
(That eventually leave me)
Drained and serendipitous

Now we entwined
Seek a sunlight sojourn
(In darkness we are)
A tattooed compromise
Until morning arrives

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Haiku Friday: Angel. A haiku.

Angel

You descended from
on high, an angel whose wings
could fly no longer.

Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable and line structure.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

The Cycle. A poem.

Strangers, friends, lovers,
then strangers again.
Lovers and strangers,
but no longer friends.

It seems it’s a cycle
we’re doomed to repeat.
A cycle of madness,
one we just can’t escape.
No matter how we try
to break the cycle each time,
we always end up
back at the start of the line:

strangers, friends, lovers,
then strangers again.
Lovers and strangers,
but no longer friends.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Day Trip. A poem.

Drive across the aimless asphalt,
seeking ventures gained and lost.

Your hand is soft in mine,
the patina of your skin a road map
of anxious lines and weary learnings.
Today the sun and hills call forth,
in a circus maximus fanfare,
full of rolling fields and girdled cows;
ecstatic lens flare in every vista,
like a bargain basement special effect.

These times we spend are fleeting,
flying from our lonely pigeon coops,
hankering for domestic ventures,
the taste of quixotically exotic foods.

Your hand, so soft in mine,
my hand, so soft in yours.

Drive on, until our conjoined experience
merges with the murky sunset
and the road leads to your door.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

The Difference. A poem.

Not the same,
not the way it was before,
even though it was nothing less
and nothing more,
it’s not the same.

Just a shame
it’s not like it was before,
even though it could never be,
of that I’m sure.
Such a shame.

No one to blame,
and neither here nor there
or anything in between, you see,
of that I am aware.
Nothing left to say.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Wilderness. A poem.

I

   No

        Longer

                    Wander

                                  Alone

                   Now

    You’ve

               Joined

                          Me

                                In

                                   This

             Wilderness

With

        All

             The

                   Other

                             Lost

                   And

    Lonely

                Souls

 

I write a lot of poetry, some of which comes from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more poems, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers.
Click here to find out how to purchase a copy

You and Me. A poem.

This touch fuelling
DESIRE
wanton and wastrel
ECSTASY
diamond moments of
PLEASURE
placating needs in
FIRE
that scorches earth
THIRST
no longer barren
CARNAL
swollen contempt
SATED
eventually
and now just
YOU and ME

I write a lot of poetry, some of which comes from my head, some from my heart, and some from my a$&@. Many don’t appear on this website. For more poems, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers.
Click here to find out how to purchase a copy to treasure forever, or at least until some other e-book takes your fancy 😉

Diver Down. A poem.

Standing on this scarp’s edge,
a precipice, keen and lofty.
Stare down with me
at unknowing depths,
where new enigmas await,
an insinuating breeze.

Dive with me, together;
let the blossoming currents,
those flowers of fate,
guide our way blindly
through the consuming dark
into the great unknown, beyond.

I write a lot of poetry, some of which doesn’t appear on this website. For more poems, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers.
Click here to buy a copy!

Fingertips. A poem.

Fingertips slide
Along the patina of your skin
Seeking gullies in which to hide
Crevices, creases and other things
Sketching highlights far and wide
Feeling their way with rarefied touch
Until they whisper to the underside
Until they’re lost and found and such
In sweat-soaked draperies
And windswept finery
Fingertips slide

I write a lot of poetry, some of which doesn’t appear on this website. For more poems, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers.
Click here to buy a copy!

Fulfilment. A poem.

I’m mister brusque, mitigated
by your infinite charm.
I’m the wallflower waiting
for your effervescent sunbeams.
I’m the wall of condescension,
you’re the ebullient ladder.
I’m the aching pit and you,
You are my fulfilment.

I write a lot of poetry, some of which doesn’t appear on this website. For more poems, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

The Year of Living Dangerously.

Is love hard to find?

In today’s fast moving and super-connected society, it can be. And for those of us who are shy, awkward, socially inhibited, or just plain old, it can be dang near impossible (yeah, old people use ‘dang’. What’s that, they don’t? Oh, shut up).

That’s where dating apps come in. No longer much-maligned and embarrassing to admit, they’re an invaluable tool for meeting new people.

My Tinder-esque experiences over the last year varied from the wonderful (a woman who appreciates my sense of humour) to the indescribable (foil hat-wearing oddjobs). I can certainly say the crazy gamut of wild and wanton women made my life interesting.

But the time came to put childish things away. I retired my dating app a few months back (only writing about it now? Sorry, had a few things going on).

I’m not saying I’ve found a perfect love (we’re both at the “like ya a lot” stage); we’re still testing the hot waters with each other, occasionally getting burnt, but not bad enough to run for cover. And that’s as good as anything in this crazy old world. Especially for this crazy old guy.

Now, I have to take my woman (oooh, she hates me calling her that…) shoe shopping. And I’m liking it a lot.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

The Brink. A poem.

More alike than we like to think.
Along a chasm of separate worlds,
here we stand upon the brink
of more than lowly words.

I long for you, for a subtle touch
and you long for just a thought.
Perhaps we want these things too much,
perhaps it could never work.

But if we tried and tried again,
made dreams from vagaries,
perhaps our love would never wane,
like the sun, land and sea.

I write a lot of poetry, some of which doesn’t appear on this website. For more poems, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Keepsake. A poem.

I hear you,
I see you;
your mirror face
tells no lies
but hides the truth,
like a waxing moon
hiding the sun
from the subtle stars.

I hear you,
I see you,
I hold you;
you are wine
within my mouth,
light within my vision,
tincture at my touch.
My keepsake.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Paper Hearts. A poem.

My heart was torn,
tiny pieces shredded
like origami shapes
fluttering on the wind.

Just like every
paper person
in my overcrowded mind,
an overcrowded sea
of paper people,
with shredded paper hearts,
like origami shapes
fluttering on the wind.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Arrival. A poem.

I waited
and waited
and hoped

and you arrived.

Without acclaim,
without excess,
but not without baggage
of your own.

Seared with silent wounds
in mirrored grace
and Savoir-Faire.

And all the waiting and the hope,
all the self-hate and the scars,
all the loneliness I had known,

receded like the tide,
trawled by an incumbent moon.

Now you’re here,
your smile a nascent whirlwind
threatening to drag me
kicking and screaming
from this storm cellar.

Threatening to hold me
endlessly.

I’ll try not to let go.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Meteor. A poem.

You are the meteor
slicing my heavens
to the quick,
scorching my atmosphere
without regret.

And when you hit my ground
cleaving my earthy heart and
spreading its detritus
far and wide,
I’ll willingly accept your carnage
with arms as wide
as oceans.

Because when we are one,
the strata
and fossil record
will tell our story
forevermore.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Haiku Friday. A lone haiku.

Embalmed. A Haiku.

I’m embalmed by life.
I will lie in state for you
to consume your fill.

Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable structure.

Okay, okay, I know you know that already!

Cheers

Steve 🙂

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Haiku Friday. ‘Journey’. A haiku.

Journey. A Haiku.

Our journey begins:
gentle solicitous touch.
Now, scream together.

Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable structure.

What, you knew? Fair enough.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Horizon. A poem.

In the setting sun,
a hazy miasma of watercolours spilled,
an adventitious mix
of variegated textures and tones.

With every highlight
and every shifting coruscation,
I think of you.
This miracle horizon cannot compare.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Believe in Love. A poem.

Believe in love.

Believe so ardently that your heart
burns from the pain of longing, loss
and subtle expectation,
a flame that reduces you
to dying embers
at the thought of that special other.

This aching lamentation
is for the cold shouldered,
the one who got away,
the one who stole your anxious soul.

Explore your separate paths,
you forlorn and weary travellers
and perhaps you will find each other,
somewhere on the periphery
of a merged existence.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Hand. A poem.

Hand in mine, you lead
me far from dark entwined.

For certain death
                            does this
                                      way lie.

Awakened from the brine
that soaks me here;

bitter, murky soup
                  in which I float,
                                       resigned.

Take this hand, and lead
me far from death’s brigand.

Comfort me for I have been
                              led astray from
                                               all I need.

 

 

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Juncture. A poem.

At this juncture,
decisions made:
A change of season,
a chance parade.

At this juncture
of no return,
no looking back
at bridges burned.

At this juncture,
we’re laid to rest
in hallowed ground,
without contest.

At this juncture,
the time has come
to decide our futures
‘til time’s undone.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Tangent. A poem.

I’m off on a tangent,
tangentially related to
this relationship
that doesn’t exist
but continually insists
betwixt was and is and not
that it could and should and would
be something worth waiting for,
despite the frustration
and inevitable fall,
the appalling nature of its form,
and the tangent to which
it’s only barely related at all.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

The Not-So-Burning Bush. A short tale.

I haven’t written a flash fiction for a while. Here’s my poor attempt at romantic fiction.

Cheers

Steve 😊

I was ensconced in the bush, its leaves and branches irritating and scratching my face. Completely hidden, I craned my neck to hear what was said, while trying to maintain some sort of focus on Jenny. I could see her back through the foliage.

“…and I just couldn’t believe what she was telling me, y’know? Like, the guy she’s been going out with has been cheating on her for weeks, and she knows it, and she’s still seeing him. Is that pathetic, or what?” The other girl nodded and they both laughed. A few more words and her friend left for a lecture across campus. Jenny sat on the bench near the tree I was hiding in, started checking her iPhone.

At that moment, a sparrow landed next to me on a branch near my head. It was so unexpected that I yelped involuntarily, spun, fell through the bush and collapsed on my back on the pavement next to the bench. My head hit the concrete with a crunch, and I’m sure I saw stars. Yes, just like in cartoons.

Jenny swore, startled by the sudden miracle of a man from a not-so-burning bush. She stood over me, looking concerned (I assume for my potential medical condition, and not for any perceived mental condition). “Jacob? Oh, my God, are you all right?”

I was swearing. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” I rubbed the back of my skull, tried to get up, decided I felt better lying there. “I take that back. No, I’m not.”

Jenny kneeled next to me, unsure of what to do. Students walked past, amused, bemused, uncaring, or a combination of all of the above.

Jenny raised an eyebrow. “What were you doing in that bush?”

“I think I might have a concussion…” Avoidance is the better part of valour, so someone once said. I think it was me, just now.

Jenny frowned as it dawned on her. “Were you stalking me?”

“No, I was just…resting in the bush. For a moment. Getting my bearings. Bird watching. I love trees.” Lying on my back, rubbing my painful head, coming up with terrible excuses. I was the cover model for lame. “Yes, I was stalking.”

She crossed her arms, tilted her head in that delightful way she did when she was being judgemental. “Oh, my God, that is so creepy. And I used to think you were cute.”

“You thought I was cute? I had no idea.”

“Obviously, or you wouldn’t be hanging out in bushes, spying on me.”

“Would you like to get a coffee, or something?” In hindsight, probably not the best time to ask, but I was hurt, desperate and concussed, covered in leaves, scratches and embarrassment. Probably could try for the sympathy vote. Or an insanity plea.

Jenny laughed. She laughed so much she had to wipe away tears. After about a minute of further humiliation, she smiled. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but okay.”

“Really? You just caught me stalking you like some crazy guy.”

“Oh God, you really are an idiot, aren’t you? I said yes, already. Shut up, get up, and let’s get that coffee, before I change my mind.”

Jenny helped me to my feet. I stumbled a bit, grinning all the while.

“Am I going to regret this?” she said.

“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not.”

We both smiled.

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