Enfilade. A poem.

The enfilade is over
And bodies lie strewn
Across the battlefield
Like broken bottles
Leaking last regrets

You have cut me down
Your machine gun wit
And explosive rejoinders
Creating a no man’s land
Where I lie fractured.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

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Book Sale! ‘The All or the Nothing’ at 20% off for a limited time

Hi all

My first print poetry book, The All or the Nothing, is currently on sale for 20% off for a limited time. It’s normally $10.00 Australian but is now $8.00, which is approximately $5.60 American or 4.30 British pounds (my keyboard doesn’t have a pound symbol – DOH!).

Inside, you’ll find 62 poems about love, depression, madness, insecurity, anxiety, fear, heartbreak and dating. It’s enough to turn you to drink. But in a dignified, semi-happy way. Oh, there are poems about that, too.

To get your copy, click on this link: http://www.lulu.com/shop/stephen-thompson/the-all-or-the-nothing/paperback/product-23811868.html

Cheers

Steve 🙂

PS – My second book, Poetry for the Sad, Lost Lonely and Endangered is available as well (but not on sale – Double-DOH!). Click here for information about that one

poetry book - the all or the nothing - stevestillstanding

 

 

I Live. A poem.

I live

         Amongst

                          Serrated tongues

                          And plastic

                         Hearts

                                                      Amongst

                         The detritus

                         Of bitter

                        meaning

And

                        Forlorn hopes

I live

          Because

                       I can

                                And will

                     Always

I live

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

The Hole. A poem.

The hole stares back at me,
A great, unblinking eye
That will not let me be.
The hole is black as pitch
And filled with pain and lies,
Every scar and every stitch.
The hole it draws me in,
Inescapable gravity,
A match I cannot win.
The hole encloses me
And I am down again
Never to be free.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Life, Finally. A poem.

My wanderings,
part of me, intrinsically.
My wonderings,
ostensibly necessary.
My heart and head,
as one, not separately.
My head and heart,
all I need, invariably.

My turns of phrase
never lead me astray.
My phrasing, beguiling,
when it turns that way.
My life is finally, where I
want and need to be.
My life, the sum, is the
worst and best of me.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

The Search. A poem.

I have yet to find
The erstwhile substance,
The peace of mind,
Free from nomenclature
And chilled regrets.

The ice upon my lake,
Covered in spider filigree
And waiting to consume
Me with every overly
Anxious step.

My navigation clears,
The further I go,
But slow-witted overtures
And death-defy requests fall
On ears long since deaf.

The search goes on,
The snow ever deepens.
Each footstep harder
In this trackless realm of
possibilities and deep unrest.

But still I seek,
Still I yearn alone,
And eventually I will find
The one true love that will
forever free my head.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Leash. A poem.

A vague and secondary feeling
Unkempt and untrusting
Creeping through my head
Like an uninvited stranger
And yet so familiar

Just as I’m feeling good
about myself and my world
The black dog bites me
A subtle reminder
Of his taut, choking leash

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Bad Memories. A poem.

You still haunt
An incorrigible spirit
Infecting like
a wasting disease
And reducing us
To a mockery
of ourselves.

Here you sit
Having grown
Complacent
Upon our shoulders
A ghostly monkey
Upon our backs
Rearing your ugly head
In constant remembrance
And bitter scorn.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Trapped. A poem.

Isolated
Alone
Weary
Waiting

Life without meaning
Contemptible in reproach
Self flagellation
And inimitable doubt

Tired
Empty
Sad
Succinct

Selfish and self-absorbed
Mired and wallowing
The constant reprobate
Entwined and enshrined

Endless
Pitiful
Artless
Vacuous

Circling down the drain
Longing for escape
Dead thoughts and dead time
Grasping for hope

Longing for an end
In a world without end

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Cast. A poem.

Line cast before the storm,
Sent and received
Let waters churn
Offer up your burdens
And your soothing grace
So that the tide might carry
All concerns beyond
This harbour’s boundaries
And out into the wide
And yearning sea.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Invisible. A poem.

Sometimes, I feel invisible,
someone the crowd will never see.
The collective and the individual
residing here inside of me.

Sometimes, I feel invisible,
my words a faint reprieve.
Their subtlety and subtext,
misconstrued and unperceived.

Sometimes, I feel invisible,
no recognition behind her eyes,
to signify a reminder of
a long, overdue goodbye.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Recollection. A poem.

I have a recollection
Of the man I used to be
Whilst I don’t want him back
There are aspects that I see
Parts and pieces that I miss
A heady mix, a potpourri
But I’m glad he’s in the past
So I can be a better me

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Reach You. A poem.

I skirt the eggshell minefield,
Tip-toeing between
The thick and thin,
Navigating longitude
And withering latitude:
Just so I can reach you.

But every step draws veiled threats
Masking vengeance
In a trial of death defiant,
A tightrope can-can
Above a viper’s pit:
Just so I can reach you.

Weary from the tidal surge,
Anxious from the UXB.
These tender hooks
Are not as tasty
As they used to be.
But I’ll consume them anyway:
Just so I can reach you.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Rebirth. A poem.

I wondered how
You were, you see
Tracked you down
More than easily

Just a single look
I knew, though hurt
On, you’d moved
From that cold, cold birth

Which was all I wanted
Both then and now
To take that pain
And slice it out

Cast on the pyre
With sullen doubts
I’m glad your sails
Brought you about

And I thank the one
Who achieved the task
Who put to rest
Your weary past

Just one last glance
Into eternity
I’m gone, you’re gone
Reborn as seeds

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

A Duel. A poem.

We long for a less-than-guarded
conversation, as conventional
as that may seem in times
as conventional and guarded
as these.

A dual of wits and natures whereby intent is disguised and
discursively dismissed
as quickly and as slowly
as it isn’t.

The epitome of vengeance in every
word and phrase: a calculated
duel, a parry and a flourish
with each riposte
and dare.

We long for a less-than-guarded
conversation; of this I am
myopically aware.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Due Date. A poem.

The bell rings
(or tolls, or so it goes)
and I’m under fire again
rushing into no man’s land
without a weapon or a plan.

A last minute dash,
as if it were all she wrote
(and perhaps it is and was).
A lucid trance to carry me
through torrential rain and home.

And then, I wait,
with and without regret,
until fortune or misanthropic fate
deals me a winning hand.

I could strategise,
as a manager in prior life,
to sooth the way, somewhat,
to marry my goodwill
with happenstance.

Until it’s time to dance
this merry dance
untold times again,
and leave as I arrived:
to subtle refrains
and shotgun chicanes.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Alike. A poem.

Does she sit and cry?
Does she pray at night, as I?
Does she feel the patina
of a life less inspired?
Does she mirror my repose
and ask the question: why?
Perhaps we are, more or less,
Alike.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Abstinence. A poem.

You abstain in the light
At night, small confessions
Are saltwater wreaths
Around your neck
Dragging you along
In a relegated riptide.

This abstinence
Has carved a furrow
And driven conversations
With shadows and mosquitoes
Wondering when the light
will answer you again.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Airport Carpark. A poem.

There are far better places
to while away the time,
yet we continue circling
like reverse-vultures.
This obtuse concrete garden
(no doubt designed by Daedalus,
whose Labyrinth was but a flea
compared to this circus)
leads us astray in every moment,
much like our heart’s content.

No way out, it seems,
no exits or reprieve.
The human and inhuman cost spirals,
much like our heads and souls,
relentless and yearning
for release.

.

The two worst carparks in my world (and possibly THE world) are the tiny Spotlight car park in Newcastle, and the Sydney Airport International Terminal car park. Seriously, who designs a car park where you can only drive upwards, with the only way out by driving through one-way lanes?

I believe everyone has a carpark nightmare. What’s yours?

Cheers

Steve 🙂

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Perilous Logic. A poem.

Oh, perilous logic,
cast me upon the jagged knives
of your perspicacity.
Take these ramshackle emotions
and reduce them to tears,
aimless fears and accidental truths.
When my ego is broken,
my perspective becomes
the precarious precipice
upon which I’m choking.

Oh, perilous logic,
I believe in you at my behest.
When it comes to love, though,
I’ll gladly throw you off the edge
with all the other misconceptions
and misconstrued jests.

I like to think I’m a fairly logical person. I see a problem, I itemise, rationalise and rectify the situation. That doesn’t mean I sacrifice emotion for the sake of it. Hey, I’m the guy who cries openly in soppy movies.

In fact, logic is the first thing I shoot down when it comes to love – every time. I’m a pretty good shot by now.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

PS I live in Australia, using English spelling. No ‘Rationalize’ for me 😉

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Fences. A poem.

I thought I’d mend some fences
Build them up to break them down
Fill in all the trenches
Dig the mines up from the ground

I thought I’d build some bridges
And meet you in the middle
No more complex negotiations
No more angst or pointless riddles

I thought I’d mend some fences
It was all I’d ever want
But the fence needed agreement
To break this long détente

I thought I’d mend some fences
Build them up to break on through
Instead I’m tilting windmills
And I’m no closer to the truth

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

The Music in Me. A poem.

Why the sadness,
the music tugging
at heartstrings
in pizzicato fashion,
stretching my angst
beyond reproach?

Why the darkness,
flowing in a
syrup-like tsunami,
to swallow my horizons
and the shoulder I’ve
hung my head upon?

This rhythm and rhyme
brings me down
and wrecks me,
wrapping me casually
around the telegraph pole
that should instead
have been you
and
only
you.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

The Crowd. A poem.

From there, upon his pedestal,
he lingered longingly
on the crowd surrounding him.
Dialogue and dialectic,
commentary and whimsical surprise,
his cult of personality
awake and on the rise.

But fate is fickle, as is the crowd
and it passed subsequently;
a brief rejoinder as it exited,
a momentary lapse and then return
to unregarded reason
and art lost in the daily churn.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Castaway. A poem.

Poker-faced,
a nascent clarity
before my eyes;
while behind
confusion and
regret in tides,
that while away
the dawdling time.

I seek to speak
but find no words
to fill the vacant mire
that fills this space
with more pregnant,
hesitant desires.

I am wrecked again
upon this island;
coastal reefs and waves,
burgeoning waters deep,
and no way off
for this lonely castaway.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

This Maze. A poem.

This maze we walk,
denies a bitter truth.

Our fingers trace its periphery
and yet still we walk in circles.
If escape is what we truly yearn

then perhaps there is
no maze at all.

Or perhaps the maze
is just a labyrinth of pain,
navigated by fools
like me and you.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

The Midnight Hour. A poem.

In the blackest, midnight hour,
wandering perpetual halls,
wondering if you’ll clear
your dreams of demons
and finally get to sleep.

Your trackless thoughts
always return
to her and her alone;
You grasp your hands and suddenly
she’s there—your futile ghost.

Perhaps you’ve lost
your pleading mind,
far from the brink of sane,
until the sun begins to rise
and you Rest In Peace, again.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Seesaw. A short poem.

He who hesitates

                              is lost

                                        upon 

                                                 a

                                                    seesaw

                                                                 of

                                                                      irrevocable doubt

 

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

 

Underfoot. A haiku.

Much bitter fruit on
the path of our ascension
is crushed underfoot.

What is a haiku? Glad you asked. Click here to find out more.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Vegetables. A poem.

All your hallowed dreams
are burned and charred, or
maybe lightly fricasseed;
cast aside like the hopeful rope
to the refugee always seems to be.

(Like vegetables in the pan,
never really what you want,
but always what you need.)

All your incandescent dreams
are tossed, shaken, turned;
dark thoughts that broil and churn
the pressure cooker of your head,
breeding out-of-season recipes.

(For vegetable dishes, no less, you see.)

All your vainglorious dreams
make absent mockery of fate,
your beliefs shipwrecked on reefs
that grate thoughts to Swiss cheese
or vegetables julienned, like these.

(Like vegetables in the pan,
never really what you want,
but always what you need.)

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

 

Rose-Colored Glasses. A poem.

The rose-colored glasses slipped away
and I saw you as you really are,
crowned in wishful thinking and spoilt
disparity of thought, overwrought,
less than I expected and more than I assumed.

I guess I didn’t know what I wanted,
or why you made me blue,
just another misdirected convolution
leading me astray, as always.

Got to get my mind in gear,
stop crunching the shift, driving in reverse,
overcome my hapless fears and get back on course.
And where would that be?
I’m not really sure.

But I am sure I’ll make the same mistake again,
unless I can come up with a way
to rewire my faulty brain.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Just Another Day. A poem.

There’s a hush across the savannah
Blinking eyes raised to the dawn
As I find my balance for the day
My first steps are always awkward
Morning coffee jumpstarts my brain
Some cereal, milk and platitudes
Pick up my guitar and strum awhile
As aimless as I feel, so uninspired
Your chair is empty, as it must remain
How I miss you in every way
I’ll have to settle for another day
Just another day.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

My Depression. A poem.

I thought that you would let me be
But here you come, rapaciously
Slicing me up from inside out
Filling my head with irksome doubt

Your inky fingers in my dreams
Painting landscapes and charcoal scenes
A bottomless parade of hell in sync
With all my loathing and self-contempt

I thought that you would let me go
But to the end you’ll bring me low
You’ve always had your hooks in me
An undivorceable bride-to-be

Held within your gruelling grip
Tortured by each erstwhile trip
Condescension and lethargy
Will finally make a meal of me

My depression, my black dog friend
My darkness and my witless end
My heavy head and my heart’s quagmire
Whose boundless depths never expire

The All or the NothingFor more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.
Click here to find out how to get your copy.
Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page.

The Divide. A poem.

The divide that’s grown between
has widened over time—
the subtle, well-toiled furrow,
now a rift, of deep decline.

When did this passionate divide
become more like a gulf?
And when did our discussions
become a chore, less worthy of?

No enmity in this regret,
just bitter disappointment.
The trials and travails, it seems,
one more source of discontentment.

The divide that’s grown between,
a living end for all our crimes.
The divide that’s grown between,
a border, now defined.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Submission. A poem.

Not beaten or blighted,
wracked with loss or pain,
I stand before you in judgement,
my purpose, as yet, undecided.

You have my submission,
having bowed to your requests,
but not for reasons you suspect,
or to prevent ongoing friction.

Although my head is bowed,
mirroring your condescension;
I’m now a sitter on the fence,
absolved of underlying tension.

I did not give up, per your plan;
I decided the time was right
to end this protracted, bitter fight
and be the better man.

My property settlement is finished. Whilst I could have gotten more, I chose not to. Time will tell whether that makes me a prince or a fool.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Wagyu heuristics. A poem.

The meat is the thing
A burger existence
That never led to much
I have tasted gristle
And found it wanting
Perhaps this time
I will find the iron
That will make the man
And change the way
I feel about myself
But until that day
I will be content
With wagyu
And a taste for
Natural self-hate

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Whimsy. A poem.

Sometimes, I get lost in your whimsy
and my elation at the thought of you
leaves every lowbrow, thoughtless convolution,
standing at the wayside, thumbing for a ride.
I choose to leave them all behind,
because I’ve found a better travelling partner.

Let’s lose ourselves in whimsy,

together.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.
Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Lost Before Last. A poem.

I’ve been lost many times before
Each time I wandered out your door
Full of ample needs and wants, for sure
Unaware of the trials I had, in store

I was lost sometime, just like before
Last time I thought I knew the score
Philandering man, in an endless war
Vague and rich, yet always poor

I’m lost just like I was before
Aimless midnights on the moors
An anxious man, so full of flaws
A lonely man who’s lost in thought

I’m lost before and last for sure
Always wanting less but needing more
I’ve found that life is just forlorn
So, again, I’m knocking on your door

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

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