Incontrovertible. A poem.

They say that proof
is not incontrovertible
and that the essence of truth
can be hidden in the words
encapsulating it.

I say I only need you
to touch me and say it, too—
your words punctuate and spell out
my incontrovertible belief
in 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.

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!

Beach Birthday. A poem.

Hand in hand,
across a billion pebbled seeds.
A heat frisson
murmuring beneath our feet.
Foaming cerulean
paints the shore in shadow,
while white light
turns supple skin scarlet
and melts concerns away.

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!

You and I. A sonnet.

I am found: tears and fears and blind,
wandering far from the font of my regrets.
The nurtured pain in me enshrined,
to forgive and finally to forget.

The prisons in which we held ourselves
have run their long and lowly courses;
we languished apart within those hells,
and now, together, walk without pause.

These pale shackles cast to ground,
winsome tales steeped in honesty—
shared more and less, in time unbound,
to shake our guilt and shake the tree.

As obstinate as misguided dogs
with countless tricks to do and learn.
Slim pickings on cajoling bones,
but passion enough to slowly burn.

You and I were destined, it seems to me,
For something greater than a simple fling.

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!

Too Small A Word. A poem.

Love is far too small a word

to express all the things

I need
and want
and say
and believe
and feel
and do

when I’m with you.

But then maybe that’s the point.

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!

Merry Christmas to all!

My favourite Christmas carol (okay, it’s only part of it, but I still love it!)

Silent night, holy night,
all is calm, all is bright.
Round yon virgin, mother and child,
holy infant, so tender and mild.
Sleep in heavenly peace,
sleep in heavenly peace.

Merry Christmas, one and all. May we find grace, joy, love and lasting peace in the coming year.

God bless

Steve:)

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!

Fealty. A poem.

My fealty to you
remains unchallenged
by stray thoughts,

unlike alley cats
on the prowl,
sidling and voracious,
with impropriety
in mind.

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!

Wayward Daze (Gambling Daze, part 2). A poem.

I remember carrying my son
Two months old and sleeping
Into wayward pubs and clubs
In search of a wayward mother
Bewitched by poker machines
And the scent of an easy win.

I remember the humiliation
Of asking doormen and barmen
If they had seen her
Sitting zombie-like at machines
feeding her constancy
and poor self-esteem.

I remember her excuses
Which she chose to pass from memory
As easily as passing wind,
Each lie another flatulent thought
Already forgotten in the coverup.

I remember all my tears
and my son sleeping quietly
unaware of the storm
that surrounded him
as dreams of happy families
were sundered from within.

My first wife was a compulsive gambler. It was not a pleasant time in my life, and is not fondly remembered. But it is remembered, by me, at least.

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!

Poker Machine Daze (Gambling Daze, part 1). A poem.

She played the pokies in her day,
her singular gaze unflinching
and intractably admiring.
The stars and bells, her friends;
a gentle, constant riot of affection
and affectation, pleading to stay
and coaxing her with opium overtures
of digitised ecstasy.

The hours flew by until the credit expired
and she was begging for more,
cashing nameless cheques
and selling recently acquired
electrical and white goods
(no questions asked)
in a whirlpool of hypocrisy.

The pokies called to her,
like sirens on a cold and callous sea,
the daughters of Achelous
pleading for her return,
tempting her with short-term solutions
and promises of fools’ good.

How could she resist?
Just one more spin of the wheels
and fabled misfortune awaited.
How many more lines would she cross,
how many more lies would she tell
to ensure the opulent beasts
remained her constant companions?

These friends were never-lasting,
because the all too-plentiful machines,
as sensual as they might seem,
gave far less love
than they received
and in the end
discarded her
for the next
easy
win.

My first wife was a compulsive gambler. It was not a pleasant time in my life, and is not fondly remembered. But it is remembered, by me, at least.

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!

Stealthy. A poem.

You sneak into my world

past locks, alarms, sigils, wards 

down corridors of fatalistic compromise

through rooms of idealistic circumspection

and find me waiting earnestly

wanting, more or less

what you want

no need to be so stealthy 

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!

Hurricane Heart. A poem.

Transfixed by you,
statuesque in the hurricane,
riding tempestuous
slipstream currents—
a goddess of hail
and happenstance.

You’re a lightning rod,
attracting joules
and fools like me,
incontrovertibly
shattering stratospheric records
like a pheromone cyclone.

After your storm has passed,
and the sun breaks
the clotted clouds,
I’m the only windswept survivor:
shaken, stirred, shocked,
and praying for yet more rain,

to turn this aching, burnished desert
into fields of dew-swept gold.

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!

Avoidance. A poem.

I avoid you when I see you, now.
Not ships passing in the night
but rather garbage scows,
no more trashy encounters or the like.

No potential head-ons or man overboard,
now endlesss drunken shanties to help me smile
While in my mind I sing long of discord,
blue notes to accompany my alibi.

And all the while
trying to forget I knew you.

A quick two step and I’m a private dancer,
skirting the alleyway to miss your eyes.
Ultimately, I’ll hold myself together
as I always have, or so I’d like.

The weight of my regret—two tonnes—
It pulls me down when you’re around.
And so, under the carpet, swept,
the bitter thoughts and all I’ve left.

I’m trying to forget I knew you.

And that’s been unsuccessful, too.

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!

Save the Poet!

via Save the Poet!

Like my poetry? For poems you haven’t seen before, try The All or the Nothing, my first book. It’s available now, in print and e-book formats.

Click on the link above to find out how to get your copy, and help save this poor poet from extinction.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

Fell For You. A poem.

I don’t know why I fell for this—
it was obvious you were oblivious,
and my dreams were cloaked
in pointlessness.

I don’t know why you caught my eye,
why I invested all my precious time
creating a melodious portfolio,
that you alone inspired.

Who did I want you to be
when you looked on me so distantly,
you were just a narcissistic,
attention-seeking tragedy.

You didn’t realise the truth:
we were meant to be as one, you see,
and be like living poetry.

But, then again, you never knew.

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!

Hurt (happy when I see you). A poem.

I hurt when I see you,
a mad combination of anger and pride.
Selfish and shallow,
Tear-filled and callow.
So glad you’re doing well;
I know you wallowed for awhile,
as indeterminate as I.
Now, you’re bouncing,
a supercharged rubber ball,
denying the laws of physics.

I’m happy when I see you,
but know I see right through you.
Liquid transparency in our eyes,
like life and death combined.
Memories fade but the rearview
ghosts will always stay the same.
I’m glad you made your way
and left me wandering
in front of headlights,
a deer awaiting the next
bull bar and asphalt kiss.

I hurt, but I’m happy when I see you.

Maybe you do, too.

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!

Quake. A poem.

I have spoken long with you
so many, many times,
each airy conversation
measuring low on a Richter scale
that never rises much
beyond the surface—

no evidence of my success
just artful whimsy
it never shakes your earth.

Just once I’d have you see beyond
the artifice I’ve set in place,
to the real, the bold, the dreams,
the grace—
let it grind tectonically
and crumble these placid walls
to reveal what’s behind the facade.
To be a quake worth waiting for.

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!

Intoxicated. A poem.

I was so into you—
every thought, every move,
was a riot of ecstasy
that shook me to my core.

More than destiny,
more than waking dreams
or midnight fantasies.
You were the bottle
and I was the alcoholic
reaching for just one more drink;
just a crazy intoxicant,
a fevered dream
that burned me up,
like a tenement fire
in a city-lost soul.

But like every addict
I had to come back down.
And when I finally touched ground,
shivering and drenched,
the cold light of day
reflected in my pain,
I realised the time had come
to give up the drink
and become a better whole.

And you?
I guess you became
someone else’s need,
someone else’s game.

Someone else to blame.

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!

Shiver. A poem.

This shiver, a sliver
of ions up my spine,
a delectable point
of contention on my mind
shaping continuities
of ecstasy, baking
hormones in my pituitary,
activated by your touch
in mine.

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 Son My Sun. A poem.

My love for you is bottomless without end infinite it is sunbeams and moonbeams and cluttered thoughts laughter and pain you are my sun and my moon and all the cliches in between and while your light shines I will forever bask in it yeah I’ve screwed up your life at times that’s what parenting is all about but hopefully I’m not doing it as much you can be a pain in the ass but I know you’re just working things out love is forgiveness good with the bad compromise and all that always rising above like sunbeams and moonbeams and cliches but never ending and always beginning my son my sun you are my world keep the light on and shine bright

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!

Your Kiss. A poem.

Your kiss
takes me to places
I’ve been before
and long to revisit.

When the voyage is over
I’m longing
for that travel bug
to capture and
enrapture me again.

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!

Plague. A poem.

Why do you still plague me, so?
To inhabit me like a parasite,
gouging out my pale insides?
Churning up my hopeless dreams
like milk into aromatic cheese,
to accompany sides and crackers,
all the pieces left of me.

I tried to clear you out,
to tear up those thoughts
of you that lingered in
the shadow of my doubt.

But you are a constant here:
no razor can cut you free,
no serpentine threat can take
you away, as far as I can see.
I suppose that I am stuck with you,
like a whittling scar, or cancer tumour,
to eat me up in my pretence,
to despoil my thoughts
while I am lost in bitterness.

Your brilliance, it seems, forever blinds,
through my mind’s venetians,
you will forever shine.
I’ll long for you and wait for you
and die for you, as I always do.

A constant plague in my infected soul,
a longing and a long-lost goal.

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

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

The Winter of Our World. A poem.

Winter wanted one last bite
of the red, red cherry,
and so it returned
with steely vengeance,
to strike with icy blades
that shimmied through my skin
and took root within my veins.

The frost dusting the lawn
was a plague on both our houses,
and a sign of forlorn vendettas
lost to bitter hearts
and aching bones.

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

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Step. A poem.

One
Foot
In
Front
Of the other

Every day

Step
Forward
Trying
Not
To step back

Every day

I
Move
A
Little
Further
Forward

Every day

I move a little further
To where I need to be

One
Step
Closer
To you

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Fumes of You. A poem.

Your scent was different,
lingering in my nostrils,
a whiff of nostalgic free fall
and extra sensory motion.
The fumes of you twisted
around me and consumed
every pore and fibre
of my unwholesome being.
Should I have let that smell
overwhelm me as it did before
when I threw subtle caution
to the heedless wind?
Then you were gone
and the flames and fumes
died, as they always did.
All that was left, the memory
of your trackless bouquet.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Haiku Friday: Third Degree. A haiku.

Third Degree
Caustic heart branding
third degree burns on my soul.
Tell me again—why?

Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable and line structure.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Vagrant Heart. A poem.

And now every time I pass by you,
I remember when you were my muse.
My inspiration, a living rhyme
to hang my aching heart, in time.

          (I could and did, ‘til I was blue,
          write many volumes, just for you.
          But you never read and never knew,
          enigmas all and yet so full.)

Words flowed like the torrential rain,
now they flow right down the drain,
the endless drain out to the sea,
where tender mercies float and dream.
I’ll never know if you ever wondered,
guessed, assumed, or maybe stumbled,
upon the musings of my heart
disguised as metaphor in part.
I guess I was the greatest fool
for thinking you could love me, too.
I guess my words were wasted art,
the rantings of a vagrant heart.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

 

Surburbia. A poem.

                                My hurt
                                My tears
                                My pain
Are nothing more
Than your
                                Knowing smile
As you turn
And walk
While the
Rain washes
                               My frozen
                               Suburbia
Clean but
Still grey

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Twosome. A poem.

You creep up on me
An inveterate stalker
A ghostly presence
A firefly somnambulist
(Shadowing its prey)

You wrap me up
(A Christmas treat)
In sunflower petals
An itinerant limpet
Squeezing me senseless

You take me down
And bleed me until dry
Subcutaneous showers
(That eventually leave me)
Drained and serendipitous

Now we entwined
Seek a sunlight sojourn
(In darkness we are)
A tattooed compromise
Until morning arrives

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Haiku Friday: Inbetween. A haiku.

Inbetween
Caught in the middle,
the dutiful advocate.
Which way do you turn?

Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable and line structure.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Haiku Friday: Angel. A haiku.

Angel

You descended from
on high, an angel whose wings
could fly no longer.

Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable and line structure.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Effigy. A poem.

My memories and yours,
burnt in
effigy.
They’re digital photos
deleted from
your phone.
The flames lick at them,
a contented
aftertaste.
They hang like meat,
smoked and
chargrilled.
The funeral tailor delivers
a final suit in
charcoal.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

The Cycle. A poem.

Strangers, friends, lovers,
then strangers again.
Lovers and strangers,
but no longer friends.

It seems it’s a cycle
we’re doomed to repeat.
A cycle of madness,
one we just can’t escape.
No matter how we try
to break the cycle each time,
we always end up
back at the start of the line:

strangers, friends, lovers,
then strangers again.
Lovers and strangers,
but no longer friends.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Day Trip. A poem.

Drive across the aimless asphalt,
seeking ventures gained and lost.

Your hand is soft in mine,
the patina of your skin a road map
of anxious lines and weary learnings.
Today the sun and hills call forth,
in a circus maximus fanfare,
full of rolling fields and girdled cows;
ecstatic lens flare in every vista,
like a bargain basement special effect.

These times we spend are fleeting,
flying from our lonely pigeon coops,
hankering for domestic ventures,
the taste of quixotically exotic foods.

Your hand, so soft in mine,
my hand, so soft in yours.

Drive on, until our conjoined experience
merges with the murky sunset
and the road leads to your door.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

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