She Loves Me (Not). A poem.
She loves me, She loves me not. I suppose I’ll never know. She loves me, She loves me not. I have to let her go. She loves me not. And that’s how it always ends. Continue reading She Loves Me (Not). A poem.
Category: Poetry
Clockwork. A poem.
Causal expectations and experience will say that I will just gain nothing from this long and tedious day. My movement winding down, corroded, insecure, scattered springs, nuts and bolts and thoughts abound, unsure. Who’s to say my automation is better than before? Let cogs and gears grind on and on as I cogitate some more. I was once wound so tightly that I thought I’d never slow, but now my springs are stretched and worn, so tired and overblown. Tick tock, cries the clock, round and round it goes, this clockwork man keeps winding down, all the way to zero. Continue reading Clockwork. A poem.
Hate. An Acrostic Poem.
Her apple eyes look through me, Auspicious in ambiguity. To think, I thought she liked me. Extra ego in perpetuity. Continue reading Hate. An Acrostic Poem.
Haiku Friday. Three Haikus pour vous!
Fence Sitter Here in your desert, every choice a mirage; each oasis lost. Silence Shy, foolish man child, so terminally quiet. Silence will end you. Bloom I wish love would bloom. In the field of broken hearts, loneliness grows strong. . Well, it’s that time of the week again. Haiku Friday demands three line poems with a 5/7/5 syllable structure. And what Haiku Friday demands, it gets! Cheers Steve 🙂 Continue reading Haiku Friday. Three Haikus pour vous!
Fall for you. A poem.
The light is fading, you’re walking out; she’s reclining luxuriantly. The light in those magical eyes is enough to blind a man, before you question why. That smile, combined with sylvan form, is hot enough to melt a man (raised on a diet of ‘avoid’). Like a supernova sundae, take him out at the knees, leave him confused and dazed, with thoughts, indiscreet. Get out of there before that brazen temptress (Who doesn’t know her power over all that exists) enthralls you with her siren voice; makes you fumble, stumble, makes the floor your only choice. Escape while you can, … Continue reading Fall for you. A poem.
Perish The Thought. A poem.
Perish the thought, along with all the others. My mind is a blank canvas for me to paint anew; for me to spray all my hopes and blues. Continue reading Perish The Thought. A poem.
The Near-Empty Bottle. A poem.
I glanced drunkenly into the near-empty bottle. In the viscous alcohol I saw my face, rippled and twisted like a garish Mr. Hyde. I laughed at the carnival mirror, so accurately reflecting every facet of my, oh, so petulant features. Every flaw and misconception brought to life in errant ripples at the bottom of a pit, too deep to reach. I cast the bottle aside and hailed for another, in the hopes that I (eventually) might see something far, far better. My first book of poetry, The All or the Nothing, is available now as an e-book from most online … Continue reading The Near-Empty Bottle. A poem.
Haiku Friday. Yep, it’s a thing, now.
Ahead. A Haiku Trilogy. Mouth The subversive grin Making mellifluous voice A love explosion Eyes Eyes of deep regret Wash away your highest hopes Rivers to the sea Ears What bitter sounds made Cannot be unheard again Forever doubting . It’s Haiku Friday. (Yeah, I made it a thing last week. I can do that. I think.) Here’s some Haiku I composed, just for you. Cheers Steve 🙂 Continue reading Haiku Friday. Yep, it’s a thing, now.
Nights. A poem.
Nights staring into gloom. A mirror to reason, reflecting all your fallibilities and failing sensibilities. All your new found confidence, blown away like mist, before winds of uncertainty. Your moon is waning tonight. You are a crescent shell, threatening to pitch headlong into the drifting, darkening tide. Best sleep, before you persuade yourself otherwise. As you slowly sink, the ever-present gloom drinks up your half empty cup, all your remaining light, and leaves you bathed in Nights. Continue reading Nights. A poem.
Sugar Pearls. A poem.
Sugar pearls captured in her smile, as rich as maple syrup seas. I long to swim there and taste her sweet, warm waters on my tongue. Continue reading Sugar Pearls. A poem.
Tinder Surprise. A poem.
Flip left Flip right Match? Or natch? Just like a toy in a chocolate egg (sometimes broken) Tinder surprise My first book of poetry, The All or the Nothing, is available now as an e-book from most online distributors. To … Continue reading Tinder Surprise. A poem.
Every Word. A poem and a thank you.
Every laboured keystroke, every considered verb and noun. Every gritted mental blank, every meaning so profound. Every silken metaphor, every glorious turn of phrase. Every underlying message, every edit, every change. Every keystroke, every line, ever thankful every day. Every joy I write that lies within, that flowers on every page. Thank you. . This poem is a thank you to all of my readers. Everything I do is for you. Cheers Steve 🙂 Continue reading Every Word. A poem and a thank you.
Flip That Switch. A poem.
Shut me down, flip that switch. Turn out my lights and hear me Breathe my final maudlin death rattle. You have such a way with words, you kill me every time. Every. Time. Continue reading Flip That Switch. A poem.
Haiku Friday. Three haikus in a row.
Congregation This congregation What secrets are kept in here Hidden agendas Tai Chi Slow and graceful moves All mindfulness and mystique Far too many forms Prayer Bend my knee to Thou Communicate by steeple Wait for an answer . If you’ve followed me for a while you will know I absolutely love Japanese Haiku, with its 5/7/5 syllable structure. Here’s a few I wrote recently. I think I’ll make Haiku Friday my ‘thing’ for Fridays. Just because. Cheers Steve 🙂 PS Want to read some more Haiku? Whereku? Hereku. Continue reading Haiku Friday. Three haikus in a row.
Window. A poem.
She’s seated before a window, sun highlighting shiny diamonds in her hair. Her fingers are flamingoes on her smart phone, a wily dance sped up to double speed, of muscle memory and familiar keys. Lips as full as pillows that I long to cushion with my own, and the dress she wears hugs contours of which I am so painfully aware. Her eyes escape to velvet shores and silken sheets upon the beach, and I must look away too soon, lest she see me here. Scant feet separate us and small talk fills the space between, all luscious notes and … Continue reading Window. A poem.
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