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 … Continue reading The Rain and the Heart. 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, … Continue reading Hello. 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 … Continue reading In Between. A poem.
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 … Continue reading Guide to the Unrequited Love Affair
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 … Continue reading Love/Hate. 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 … Continue reading Trapped. 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, … Continue reading Anew. 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, … Continue reading My River. A poem.
Still standing. Waiting. Where are you? When are you? Your bus is long, long overdue, but I will wait, anyway, wondering if my timetable is completely out of date. Hoping my ticket to ride is still valid, not expired. Still … Continue reading Still Standing. A poem.
Watery Kiss. A haiku trilogy 1. Concrete My feet are concrete. I swim the depths of my heart. Ocean bottom calls. 2. Goldfish My lungs filling up. liquid in mouth, on the brain. Goldfish down, am I. 3. Calcified Funereal … Continue reading Haiku Friday. ‘Watery Kiss’, a haiku trilogy.
Here, amongst a billion tiny souls crunching below my feet, sticking between my toes, a first kiss of many. Furtive, restless, heated, fingers and palms hitchhiking over a bountiful landscape. A tsunami flowing through the fields, disrupting your trains of thought and once rational mind. As the sun sinks lower and evening falls; like time, we shall come to pass on these dunes. Here, amongst a billion tiny souls that crunch between our feet and the small of your back. Would you like to read more poetry and prevent Steve from starving at the same time? Steve’s first book of … Continue reading Beached. A poem.
Here amongst the mammals shuffles the dinosaur, all rippling muscle and strident flanks. As he lumbers around the errant, tiny creatures, he wonders why he’s here, and what brought him to this place. Here and there the animals pair off, … Continue reading Dinosaur. A poem.
I’m spinning in a vacuum, lost in zero-gee. Point and counterpoint, continually rolling free. I try to gain a foothold, but my world’s a churning sea. Spinning in this vacuum, until I hear from thee. Continue reading Spin. A poem.
My smile is always tinged with sadness and regret, because even all this love I have can’t change what’s done and said. I’ll reveal to you my everything, be the oracle of my shame, Entrust you with my deepest hurt … Continue reading Reveal. A poem.
We all, a crescendo of broken hearts, slivered by degrees, like fractured performance art, played out in front of voyeuristic crowds for residual affirmation and a single denarius. Come join me in the circus round so that we may hug … Continue reading Crowd Pleasers. A poem.
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