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 … Continue reading Whirlpool. 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 … Continue reading Icarus. 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 … Continue reading Longing. 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 … Continue reading Cut. 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 … Continue reading Judgement. 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 … 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.
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 … Continue reading Alive. 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 … Continue reading Love/Hate. 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 … Continue reading Rancid. 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.
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 … Continue reading Down again. 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.
Edgar Allan Poe is considered one of the foremost exponents of the Gothic horror genre and is also well known for his poetry. His poem The Raven, published in 1845, was his most famous and successful work, and his short … Continue reading Edgar Allan Poe and the First Exegesis
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