Enthroned. A poem (and a dedication).

Enthroned
Commissioned at the hearth
Creation at both ends

Poetry of motions
Movements and quotients

Seated and relieved
The uncanny mind projects
And words flow on

Moreso than the waterfall
Or waste disposal

Until the final act is done

And the seeds of doubt
Are flushed

Begone!

.
You may not have guessed (or maybe you did), but this light-hearted poem is about me writing poems on the loo (oooh, how fourth wall of me). A most productive time that I would be remiss not to write about.

It’s dedicated to Victo Dolore, a doctor/writer who has an amazing blog about her doctoring (in a good way), her love for her kids and life in general. She has a wonderful ‘thoughts from the throne’ column every Thursday, where she literally blogs from her toilet.

Here’s to you, Victo. Great minds think alike (or is it great bums?). If you haven’t checked out Ms Dolore’s blog, do yourself a favour and click here.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

The Pitch. A poem.

Every time I see her
The briefest moment fleeting
My time with her is limited
To a nondescript meeting

It takes less than a minute
To make the magic pitch
To appeal to better nature
Before regret becomes an itch

But then the meeting’s ended
No optioned heart’s desire
For two souls to be blended
Dream buried in the mire

One thing appears so obvious
And this I’m certain of
I’m really not a salesman
I’m just in (unrequited) love

Toxic. A poem.

The world is toxic
Bioengineered
Gene-spliced
Consuming me
While I’m consuming it
Chemical carcinogens and biological tumours

Oh, for a world free
From genetically modified food
And environmental waste

Only in dreams, now
Fairy tales we tell our kids
While eating plastic snacks

Thoughts of Love. A poem.

Bury those thoughts of love
They are not for you

She is blind to you
Not even hallucination
Or an oasis mirage
You are the poltergeist
Invisible in the room
Ever-present and in pain
Locked into an endless cycle
Of feeble-mindedness
And lonely, wanton disdain

So stop your wishing
Stop your dreaming
Curl yourself up in a foetal ball
And lose yourself in dank despair
Let the black dog by your side
Drag you down into the oily darkness
Grinning as he does
His teeth gripping tightly on your vacant heart

Bury those thoughts of love
Because she is not for you

For you will always be

The fool

Free Fall. A poem.

Recently I found myself in

free fall

Wondering when I’d hit the ground running
And if I’d ever touch terra firma

at all

But two heads are better than one
So join me and we’ll free fall

together

And maybe being grounded

won’t matter
after all

See the Light. A poem.

How I wish to see the light
No matter how much it hurts and blinds
My eyes, so used to darkness here
To anxious crowds and bloody sights

Wave a torch, a beacon shining
Like a firefly that flutters in the night
Something I can reach, to aspire
Before the final round of this fight

When the canvass finally catches me
Punch drunk and exhausted
Let me see that final light
And know that it was worth it

Storm on my Horizon. A poem.

Storm on my horizon
Raining on my dreams
Hailing on my hope
Flooding my reason
With dark clouds
And windy betrayals
Storm on my horizon


Just when you think you’re feeling good about life, the clouds roll back in and deliver bucket-loads of blues. The downpour is unexpected, unpredictable and definitely undesirable.

Steve

Twenty Four Kays. A poem.

Twenty four kilometres I walked on a whim
“I can do this, no worries,” what was I thinking?
Five hours, two blisters and a sore ankle later
And I’m wondering if I should feel any way better
Was it just for my ego, or just to feel good
Or was it just for the pain, as I know that it should
And in the end, I can’t deny that which is true
Walking’s a poor substitute for being with you

.

For the full story about my little walking episode, click here.

Steve 🙂

Family Lost. A poem.

I’d long lost sight of my family
As I descended the stairs slowly
Those stairs they were so tricky
It was easy to trip and slippery

They climbed up the darkened stairs
Out of my tomb and into the air
Tasted golden winds of change
Above ripples in the water made

Four cold walls for my apologies
All lamentations and sobriety
Here I’d fallen and here I’d stay
We all fly free in our own ways

True Beauty. A poem.

True beauty
The power you hold
Unbeknownst to you could change the world
For one man all told

A man who longs for you
When nights are cold
As he lies alone with only thoughts of true beauty
To save his soul

The Long Haul. A poem.

The long haul north
The highway like a dreamtime serpent
Twisting forlornly through valleys
Of gum and wattle, towns and fields

I am an island moving
In the relentless torrent north
Towards faithless destiny
Not remembered or forgiven

Just complete the task assigned and say goodnight
I’m just a chauffeur on the fly

.

I recently drove 2200kms giving a lift to my aging parents to and from their holiday destination up north (there and back twice: all up 4400kms over 4 days).

I didn’t mind the distance. What I did mind was not seeing a family member I was once close to, who I haven’t seen for about four years, and who hasn’t talked to me since a falling out.

I’m not angry. I’m very disappointed. And sad. Maybe one day we’ll reconnect again. I hope so.

Steve

The Call. A poem.

Ask and you shall receive
Perhaps it’s meant to be
Only God can say
And His phone’s currently engaged
But I’ll keep ringing
In the hope I get through
Because the answer
Is everything

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