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 … Continue reading Perilous Logic. A poem.
You stand on the cusp Of an end and beginning Afraid of your choice 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 … Continue reading Decisions. A Haiku.
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 … Continue reading Fences. 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 … Continue reading The Music in Me. 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 … Continue reading The Crowd. 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, … Continue reading Castaway. 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 … Continue reading This Maze. 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 … Continue reading The Midnight Hour. A poem.
He who hesitates is lost … Continue reading Seesaw. A short poem.
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 🙂 For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely … Continue reading Underfoot. A haiku.
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.) … Continue reading Vegetables. 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, … Continue reading Rose-Colored Glasses. 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 … Continue reading Just Another Day. 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 … Continue reading My Depression. 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? … Continue reading The Divide. A poem.
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