Cranky at the portents: The breeze, it smells of winter, Even though the summer Has settled in Like a squatter, rent-free, Taking advantage Of your misdemeanours. Have your eyes aged With the rest? Or are you seeing as you did Before the withered cheeks And dragging jowls, When everything was new And you were innocentContinue reading “Aged. A poem.”
Tag Archives: Alone
Stump. A poem.
I’m just a stump By the road You took your axe And cut me Down to size Left me here Just a stump With not much To reflect on But passing traffic Erstwhile glances Just a stump Worn and threadbare Just a stump Cut down in my prime Admire your handiwork As you pass StumpContinue reading “Stump. A poem.”
Vault of Years. A poem.
I crawl the vault of years, hunched and broken, bereft and decaying. Unforgiven and unforgiving, trapped in webs of deceit, waylaid in poisonous shrouds. Are you here to free me? Or join the gallery? Come crawl this vault of years with me until eternity. The All or the Nothing is my first e-book ofContinue reading “Vault of Years. A poem.”
Haiku Friday: ‘Mourning Flowers’, a Haiku trilogy.
Mourning Flowers 1. The flowers in bloom, painted like rainbows in June. Yet, you tear them down. 2. You cast them aside, like radioactive waste. And now: here you are. 3. They are reminders of all you’ve reaped and sown and lost. Mourn your life.
City of the Lost. A poem.
I looked to the city. The lights were on, but nobody was home. I was alone. I expected dust devils to whirl as I walked through my world. Behind every door a Marie Celeste, of empty chairs and still full plates. Always alone. Wherever I looked reigned emptiness, yesterday’s news and mild distress. The dustContinue reading “City of the Lost. A poem.”
The Loneliness of Being
So what is life when you’re alone? Many might say life is what you make it: that if you’re alone you make the best of the situation. But for others being alone is a wasteland that sucks the essence of their soul and leaves them a withered husk. Unfortunately, I fall into that category. It’sContinue reading “The Loneliness of Being”
On the Shelf. A haiku trilogy.
Lost Another friend lost Empty space upon the shelf Whispered remembrance Alone Walking in my sleep Dreaming alone as always Isolationist Reflections Friendship, charity? Mature reflections adrift Empty shelf beckons Friendships can be hard to find and to keep, especially as one grows older. If you’re an introvert it can make it even harder. It’sContinue reading “On the Shelf. A haiku trilogy.”
Three Years Later…
So, here I am, three years after the most harrowing time of my life and everything is pretty much still the same. I’m not any closer to finding a real purpose. I still have no love in my life. I’m still socially isolated. I still have no idea what I’m doing (my prayers sound likeContinue reading “Three Years Later…”
Unrequited. A poem redux.
https://stevestillstanding.com/2017/02/19/unrequited-a-poem/ This is the second poem I ever posted. I’m feeling nostalgic! Steve 🙂
My Heart. A poem.
My heartInspired by youPumps a thousandBeats a minuteNot a heart attackNot a strokeBut heavenIn your eyes
Statuesque. A poem.
She stands before me And smiles that way And talks that way And looks that way And laughs that way She steals my heart And takes it away And hides it so And I’m lost to her And found again
For Sale. A poem.
For sale Older model Chassis in fine shape, no rust Engine in good condition Fiery but reliable May need a lick of paint And new tires Great long term investment Won’t let you down Can be driven hard Or from A to B Whatever your fancy Some wisdom and insight required Best or nearest offerContinue reading “For Sale. A poem.”
The Distance to You. A poem.
The distance to you Miles between An infinitude Yet there you stand So close to me The work of art And the fool
Zero. A poem.
So much to hope for The world turned I was still alone Expectations counting down to 0
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.
Alone. A poem.
Another Friday night, finds me alone.
Another lonely Friday night, I compose another lonely poem.
Alone. A poem.
One of those days. Unfortunately, the internet is not a cure for loneliness.
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