Books. A poem.
Love books? Sure you do, otherwise you wouldn’t be about to click on a poem called “Books”… Continue reading Books. A poem.
Category: Poetry
Consumed. A poem.
Despite what the picture shows, this poem is not about my passion for playing guitar. But if you want to take it that way, that’s up to you… Continue reading Consumed. A poem.
Son. A poem.
A poem about fatherhood and love for one’s son. 🙂 Continue reading Son. A poem.
Old Dogs. A poem.
I wrote this poem about a couple of old dogs (I’m one of them), who keep fighting with each other. Can’t we all just be friends? Not during a divorce, apparently. Continue reading Old Dogs. A poem.
Whovian Girl. A poem.
I wrote this poem for someone I loved, who is lost in time, never to return. Continue reading Whovian Girl. A poem.
Boxes. A poem.
My life is currently reduced to boxes. Some day I’ll have a proper place to live and be able to unpack them. I’ll let you guess why I wrote this poem… Continue reading Boxes. A poem.
Ghostly. A poem.
I often feel like a wandering spirit. People look through me as if I’m not there. I wrote this poem for them. Continue reading Ghostly. A poem.
Defaced. A poem.
Lost in the crowd, familiar face from a past long forgotten… I write poems about me and stuff that affects me. That’s just what I do. Continue reading Defaced. A poem.
Stupid Boy. A poem.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop being a stupid boy. I’m trying to be better. I wrote this poem about it. Continue reading Stupid Boy. A poem.
Crush. A poem.
I suffer from the hugest crushes on women who have no idea who I am. I’m a bit of a twit, really. But I love women. I can’t help it. Shame I’m not more confident. Here’s a poem about that. Continue reading Crush. A poem.
A Writer’s Lot. A poem.
And at that certain time Heads emerge from shells Where they were buried Dreaming tales to tell And cloistered in my womb Loneliness and black dog thoughts Of doom and gloom I send my words to you Sometimes liked Sometimes … Continue reading A Writer’s Lot. A poem.
The Place I’m In. A poem.
Atmospheric periphery Horizon where oxygen thins Light and dark, yang and yin Moonlight shines upon the rim Skirting stars and floating things Reflects the place and state I’m in Continue reading The Place I’m In. A poem.
Pocket. A Poem.
My pocket is the doorway to my soul. Or it could be, if I didn’t clean it out as much. Here’s my ode to the humble pocket. Continue reading Pocket. A Poem.
Trois Haiku
I will forever adore the Haiku and its mystical 5/7/5 syllable structure. Here are three I composed this morning. Continue reading Trois Haiku
Summer. A poem.
Here’s a poem about my love/hate relationship with Summer. In Australia it’s over for another year.
Winter is coming 😉 Continue reading Summer. A poem.
Laidback DM: SteveStillStanding.com 