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.


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!

Dirty Dancing. A poem.

Dance on my grave

OnE sTeP, tWo StEp, ThReE sTeP, fOuR

Pat it down and into place

OnE sTeP, tWo StEp, ThReE sTeP, fOuR

Celebrate the death of me

OnE sTeP, tWo StEp, ThReE sTeP, fOuR

Now you’re done, wash the dirt away

You wish you COULD, but you CAN’T.
You’ll always have dirt on your hands.

And feet.

OnE sTeP, tWo StEp, ThReE sTeP, fOuR…

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!

Feast. A poem.

Why do we hurt each other so?
Why do we tear at our bones
like brutal, savage, starving


(begging and braying for blood)
until all the meat and gristle
is torn away and our ivory husks


with the saliva of our folly.
When will this feast be over?
When will we fearsome beasts


engorged and sated
on memory and security
and rest forevermore.

My first book of poetry, The All or the Nothing, is available now as an e-book from most online distributors. To find out more, click here.

Waiting, wanting, waning.

I’m waiting at the Legal Aid office to get some advice about my upcoming property settlement. Needless to say it’s a dull experience, punctuated by the typing on my iPhone, the shuffle of papers, the muffled choke of a straining air conditioner and the murmurs of hushed and sullen conversations.

It’s not as depressing as it sounds (alright, it is as depressing as it sounds, but I’m somewhat biased since I suffer from long-term depression). My property settlement has been dragging on for several years now, and needs to be finalised soon, otherwise the process could start getting messy. Hah! As if it wasn’t messy already.

On a brighter note, I’m house sitting for the next few days, looking after a friend’s place while they’re on holiday. It’s nice to get out of my familiar womb every once in a while, even if it’s only to remind myself I’m not a monk. Actually, I may as well be one, since I’ve given up on online dating (meant to blog about that; reminder: blog about giving up online dating) until I’m in a better frame of mind. Based on previous experience, that may be never. But hopefully, sooner. Is ‘sooner’ part of the almost infinite measure of ‘never’? Is it a measurement at all? My brain hurts.

As I’m living in town the next few days I think I might do some busking. Busking, I hear you say? Yes, busking. I’m a poor, mature age student—emphasis on the poor. I’m also a musician, and this is the most convenient opportunity to play (read: embarrass myself) in public and maybe make a few bucks while I’m at it. Or not. Maybe I’ll make enough to cover my on-street parking fees? I guess it’ll depend on how much people enjoy my caterwauling.

Take care, all. I’ll tell you how it all works out.


Steve 🙂

Avoidance? I think not, my friends, I think not.

Sooooo…today, I had to do paperwork for my long-suffering and very overdue property settlement (like a promised rain storm after years of drought, it shimmers like a mirage in the heat haze…sorry, got distracted. That happens). Seeing as how I’m very focused (Yes, I won the ‘Far Too Focused’ award at work three years running from 2003-5) on getting things done, an over-achiever (I won the ‘Far Too Much of an Over-Achiever’ award at work three years running from 2006-8) and certified obsessive compulsive (no, missed out on that award. Was beaten by Jenny Falucci. Damn you, far too overly obsessive compulsive award winner Jenny Falucci!! There’s a place in obsessive compulsive Hell for people like you!*), I saw that considerable pile of paper and…did other stuff.

After a workout (no biggie there, I usually exercise every morning, part of my overly excessive compulsiveness), a three kilometre walk (no biggie there, I often walk in the morning, but not compulsively. I do it because I want to…along with the lunges and calf raises. That’s right, biatches, feel the burn! Oh, that’s right, I burned. I guess I just burned myself. I get distracted easily…), shaving my head (it was time to get a haircut, and as a universally known cheapskate and all-around poor person I preferred doing it myself. Did I say prefer? I meant no one else is good enough to do my hair. What little there is of it) so that I now look like a criminal (not my wisest choice, especially after buying a year’s worth of illegal hair wax, but at least when I’m arrested trying to sell large volumes of illegally voluminous hair wax to balding crackheads I’ll look just right for the mug shots), compulsively re-arranging my room (yes, I live in a tiny room, I’m over it now. But it’s so small…), marathoning Brooklyn Nine Nine compulsively (season 2 to be precise. Maybe I should watch season 1 first? Hey, it’s not Game of Thrones, I can live with that), I decided to write this blog post. That was possibly one of the longest sentences in history. Or was it…

Now, really, I should have focussed on getting that paperwork in order. Time is ticking and I would like to get the property settlement finalised this year (think of it as a time bomb, just waiting to go off—in my ex-wife’s face!! Yeah! How do you like them apples! Oh, sorry, got carried away…). I’ll have time after this. Although my guitar is looking very lonely on its stand and I haven’t picked it up since about one minute after I got up this morning…

Okay, it’s now ten minutes after I almost finished this post. I played guitar (okay, I noodled around. That’s jamming with yourself, which is sad in itself, but also not achieving any real outcome. Like playing a song, for instance). There’s this thing called ‘avoidance’. If I was a pop-psychologist (which I’m not) as opposed to a gynaecologist (which I’m not), I’d think the painful memories of my ex-marriage (which they’re not) were making me avoid doing my paperwork (which I’m not. I’m just lazy). Which I’m not, I’m just lazy. Oooh, déjà vu, anyone?

I think I might do some D&D stuff instead (what’s D&D you say? Click here). Where was I? Short attention span. Hey, my guitar looks a bit lonely over there…

Okay, just finished playing a guitar concerto in B minor (okay, no I didn’t, I just noodled. But I sounded really self-important for a minute there…). Now that’s over, perhaps I’ll give this avoidance thing a little more thought. Do paperwork?

Hey, my guitar looks lonely over there…


Steve 😊

PS  Why the cat? Because I could. HAH!!

* Let me set the record straight: Hell is not for overly obsessive compulsives. Just those who steal awards from me. That’s right, Falucci, I said STEAL. That award was mine!!

Picture. A poem.

A picture of togetherness
Written in elemental script
Captured then in time serene

A picture that made sense, it seemed
Once upon eternity
Before the poison settled in

A picture of two frozen smiles
But what in truth do they relay
When hollow eyes betray the scene

A picture of faded sepia
Now all bitterness and disregard
As if the picture had never been

Family Lost. A poem.

There are rabbits in my back yard
Each day they rise to greet the light
With eager noses, seek daily bread
While the alpha, tall and bright
Watches oh, so protectively
Together, the family eats again

I had a family once like them
It now feels like so long ago
I loved them so, my family lost
The rabbits are reminders then
With faith and hope
I’ll survive the cost

Elegy. A poem.

Where do I walk
Now the fields are burned
And ash rises high in the sky
The sun a red blur behind mottled clouds
Each ray a spotlight on misery
The bodies of the dead
Charred and blackened
Breaking beneath my feet
Whispering as they crumble
The killing fields where once we walked as one
Now the battle’s done
No victors here
No spoils of war
Just black fields of broken hearts
And dust to dust
A requiem for our shared defeat
In the aftermath, none have won
In the new world your will is done
And I walk alone
Eternally broken

Old Dogs. A poem.

Our old hangouts have changed
Nothing here has stood still
But we’re both still keeping time
To an age-old beat of bitterness and pain
Same old tricks for the same old dogs
So the malls may change and the atmosphere
But together or apart we are never present tense
Just more tension and pretension
Always at our expense

The Day. A poem.

The day has come when the one becomes two
The decree overrides a match made by fools
There is no need to cry, no need to berate
When you’re left on your own, to one single fate
So, do you just start again, or do you stand still?
Do you butt your head on a wall, or just take a pill?
Do you pray in your church, or go out on the town,
Do you walk with a smile, or shuffle with a frown
The day has come and the decision is in
Two old lives are over and two new ones begin


Divorce is a major upheaval for anyone going through it. A gamut of emotions, some good, some bad. In the end, it’s often the best thing. To move on. To have a fresh start.

It’s not always that easy to see at the time, though.

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