New Face. A poem.
I am the ripple that turns the tide, the plaintive cry that shakes the world, the angry soul that brings the pain, the lonely man, slowly gone insane. Every time I turn around I see my new face and it … Continue reading New Face. A poem.
Every Blue Thought. A poem.
I prefer black but I wear a lot of blues and this ever-lasting weariness goes from my head down to my shoes. EVERY aching, grinding, groaning, spattering, spluttering, shadowing, beseeching, bemoaning, bewildering, disturbing, destabilising, escalating, ego-destroying, undermining, undulating, failing, falling … Continue reading Every Blue Thought. A poem.
Signal Fire. A poem.
This indolence tosses me like autumn leaves, mere whispers in the breeze. Corkscrewing ever round, intoxicated by thoughts that reminisce amongst far flung ports-of-call. These empty seas would remit me unto an isle, stark, sun-bleached and worn, smoothed by time … Continue reading Signal Fire. A poem.
An Exercise in Poetic Styles
Here’s a response I did for Uni. You might like to try the exercise out yourself. Cheers Steve 😊 Write a haiku (formal style) on the theme of water and then write a free verse piece (of no more than … Continue reading An Exercise in Poetic Styles
Save the Poet!
via Save the Poet! The All or the Nothing is my ebook of poetry. Click on the link above to find where you can download it. For poetry lovers and endangered poets everywhere! Cheers Steve 🙂 Continue reading Save the Poet!
Haiku Friday. ‘Journey’. A haiku.
Journey. A Haiku. Our journey begins: gentle solicitous touch. Now, scream together. Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable structure. What, you knew? Fair enough. Cheers Steve 🙂 The All or the Nothing is my first … Continue reading Haiku Friday. ‘Journey’. A haiku.
F$&@UP. A poem.
I Wonder What MY LIFE Would Have Been Like If I … Continue reading F$&@UP. A poem.
Horizon. A poem.
In the setting sun, a hazy miasma of watercolours spilled, an adventitious mix of variegated textures and tones. With every highlight and every shifting coruscation, I think of you. This miracle horizon cannot compare. The All or the Nothing is … Continue reading Horizon. A poem.
New World. A poem.
All in an idea that surpasses every living, livid, longing, licentious breath that screams in ecstasy from the darkening depths of a soul long since condemned to a purgatory of your own making. If only you had read the signs. … Continue reading New World. A poem.
Upstart Photographer – Black and white photography is da bomb.
Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if we were frozen in a moment of time, just like a photograph. Would we feel trapped? Would we experience emotions, needs, the impact of physics and quantum mechanics, the way we … Continue reading Upstart Photographer – Black and white photography is da bomb.
Believe in Love. A poem.
Believe in love. Believe so ardently that your heart burns from the pain of longing, loss and subtle expectation, a flame that reduces you to dying embers at the thought of that special other. This aching lamentation is for the … Continue reading Believe in Love. A poem.
Hand. A poem.
Hand in mine, you lead me far from dark entwined. For certain death does this … Continue reading Hand. A poem.
Haiku Friday. A lone haiku.
Uncertainty. A haiku. This uncertainty stems from not knowing the truth that lies in all things. Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable structure. You knew that already, so I’ll just shut up now. Cheers Steve … Continue reading Haiku Friday. A lone haiku.
Juncture. A poem.
At this juncture, decisions made: A change of season, a chance parade. At this juncture of no return, no looking back at bridges burned. At this juncture, we’re laid to rest in hallowed ground, without contest. At this juncture, the … Continue reading Juncture. A poem.
Father. A poem.
I remember my father, as he is now and then, anchored to that fading chair with fading hairline and fading eyes, the absence of smoke from unfiltered cigarettes, not so heavy in the air. Less the cough from tar-filled lungs … Continue reading Father. A poem.
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