Upstart Photographer – Heart Tree

I take photographs. I write poetry.

Here’s some poetry and photography, in equal measures.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

Heart Tree. A poem.

Light shines through the trees above
Forming a shape, too like my heart
Coloured by light and silhouette
Reflecting all of my life’s regrets
And if I stare for a little too long
My vision is burned, my heart is wronged
So move along, let heart trees be
And continue on, consequentially

For more Upstart Photographer, click here.

Sheets and Slips. A poem.

These sheets and slips
Abide with time,
Like tides and shores,
Old pick up lines.
These mountains climbed
And sacrificed,
To sheets and slips
And angst-filled lives;
That lost their way,
Were found again,
In the arms of a wayward,
Weather-less vane.
No wind or rain
From north or south,
No implications,
fear or doubt.
Just sheets and slips
And subtle mouth,
To find my way
Bring this ship about.

For more Poetry, click here.

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.

Upstart Photographer – Swing

I take photographs. I write poetry.

Poetry and photography,
as seen above and below,
exchanging views
and subtle growth
.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

Swing

I swing into summer
The water chilled to perfection
Melting an icy veneer
That once suited this exterior

And so I swing
A subtle pendulum
Expectantly delivered
Into your watery embrace

For more Upstart Photographer, click here.

Well Spent. A poem.

My arms like tree limbs,
gnarled and objectified.
Here in the last remaining light,
reaching for an unreachable sign
by the side of a road,
long and bitterly loathed.

My feet encased in clay,
entrenched along with attitudes
I left in yesterday,
along with foolish platitudes
and angst-ridden symphonies
in flight and obscure.

Still the creaking joints reach out,
suppressing every thought and doubt
that lingers in the weary caress
of roots and reeds and weeds.
If you are only passing by,
perhaps you could spend some time with me.

At least I can guarantee
it will be time well spent, indeed.

For more Poetry, click here.

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.

Indifference. A poem.

She was indifferent at first—
A wall to ascend,
Of dubious propriety.
My insouciant charm
Is made to break bricks,
To render mortar
Into dirt and water,
To make a difference
From indifference.

For more Poetry, click here.

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 Cycle. A poem.

The cycle is constant

Together, alone

I long for the instant
Until I’m finally home

I endure and I crave

The simplest life

Where my soul is saved
By my family and wife

But the cycle is constant

Together, alone

The cycle is constant
Until I’m finally home

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.

Your Eyes, an Ocean. A poem.

Your eyes, an ocean

Setting me adrift at sea
Just one miscalculation
and
Suddenly there’s
No star to guide me

Your eyes, an ocean

Subtle ocean homily
Expounding on a sailor lost
and
Anxiously not
Where he’s meant to be

Your eyes, an ocean

Given a sextant to perceive
Directly and indirectly
and
This distance made wider
Between you and 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.

Too Many. A poem.

Too many regrets
upon my worn
and well-used slate,
to be reviewed
when l stand alone
at Heaven’s gate.

No just reward
for me, I’m told.
The chains won’t break
that bind me to
this certain and
uncertain fate.

I’ve tried my best,
or so I thought.
Never too late
to reverse the course,
to sail my ship, so
true and straight.

So much remorse,
that fills me up
with years of pain,
my tears resolved
by unceasing
and unending grace.

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.

Damn Fool. A poem.

Damn fool
Believing you’re good enough
Damn fool
For thinking you got it made
Damn fool
For believing in life and love
Damn fool
Taking belief to your grave
Damn fool
I still believe in you
Damn fool
Maybe you do, too

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.

No Muse. A poem.

I have no muse
And so my words
Flow winsome
And aimless
Waltzing on
To chaotic beats
And tiresome chords
Waiting for one
To lead me back
To place my foot
Upon the boards
To find the fire
And burn it bright
To shape the cadence
Of my heart
Until I should sway
And careen
And relive the light
Of ecstasy
In every word and
Cache of thought.

I have no muse
But she exists
In mind and soul
A vast horizon
That flows beyond
The scope of my
Fevered thoughts
And vacant brow.

Perhaps I shall write
Of her now.

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.

Scene, Set and Match. A poem.

Scene: a small, Italian restaurant.

Two newly-matched.
Time set aside.
Something right
and something wrong.
Laughter and humility.
Understanding and empathy.
Certainty and unreality.
Scene, set and match.

Let’s do this all again,
shall we?

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.

Guessed. A poem.

My guest, I guessed I knew you;
I was wrong, as I often am,
But fail to admit to.

My guest, you came and went away,
And left me wanting more,
As I have and will, for days.

My guest, I tasted the soul of you,
Guessed at the flavour, and,
Surprised, forgot the golden rule:

To love is, eventually, to lose,
No matter the guest
You guessed you’d choose.

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.

Eternal Vacancy. A sonnet.

You are as far from my thoughts as you aren’t
Sequestered and dream-like, merely a ghost
Wandering hallways that lie black and burnt
My mind harks to you, once or twice at most
Another fills this shady vacancy
Whispering lonely hellos and goodbyes
From the shadows that long imprison me
Manufacturing bindings for the blind
She dances, in 3/4 time upon the floor
Her message, all rhythm and subtextual
Her presence awakens the flame amore
And like the jester, I play the fool

Like all of my misguided gestures
Lost eternal as her spirit sings

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.

Driven. A poem.

The prairie and the road calls,
A waltz of remembrance
Dancing along the asphalt,
Like a tumbleweed made of last regrets.

The stick shift clicks in place,
The tension defining its existence
mirrored on the driver’s face.

Wheels spin and smoke
And the car strides forth
Like the lion on the newborn veldt,
Hunting for the prey that will stoke
Each and every kindled fire.

Every junction calls his name,
A whisper passing by
Like a ghost of Christmas past,
A brief entanglement in a roadside motel
That’s far too short and soon forgotten.

The freeway calls to him,
The art majestic and the weary eye,
Casting all doubts aside.
The way of all things revealed,
Found and lost and soon to be received.

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 Blind Sailor. A poem.

From one moment to the next,
I am a transient in time;
seeking eternal mystery,
enigmatic and sublime.
Mired and overblown is me,
a windward sailor seeks
beyond Creusa and Medea,
his fabled Golden Fleece.

So forgive me if I hurt you,
for I know not what I do.
Forgive the misbegotten sailor,
who turns and bids “adieu”.
A blind man set a wandering
without sight to truly see,
the one I’ve searched
for constantly,
right there in front 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.

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.

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

 

 

Influence. A poem.

I have read your words
And seen my influence

My mind is contours of constancy
Of riotous colour and ascendancy
My words spill across the canvas
Every emotion eagerly revealed
A zeitgeist for you to watch
And absorb and capture
Like a winsome butterfly

You take these pieces of me
And make them yours

But I am not bitter
I am a proud father
For a little part of me
Like strands of encoded DNA
And mental prevarication
Is birthed and lives on
In everything
You write

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.

The Creator’s Call. A poem.

The call of creation
Echoes in my mind,
Oscillates in my ears,
Reverberates in my soul.

This call cannot go unanswered;
It is the call of wild and reckless abandon,
The puissant grace of the cheetah
And the wind rustling the reeds.
Every word and image
Cast upon the page
and melded with my very heart,
Pumping lifeblood and illuminating
Each and every star above,
Pouring into every single
Excruciatingly luxurious ink stroke.

The overwhelming grace
That You have given me
Is clarity beyond simple hope,
And a new day
Every day.

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.

Overkill. A poem.

A stream of consciousness,
As deeply philosophical
And wittingly succinct
As Plato would suggest—
Taut and streamlined,
Delivered with equal measures
Of eloquence and cynicism,
Of fecund elucidation
And resonant aspiration.

Not every dinner conversation
Needs such enigmatic,
energetic discourse.
Perhaps the weather will suffice?

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.

Poets Loved: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? By William Shakespeare

Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

By William Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Bill is the MAN! To find out more about him, click here.

Steam. A poem.

Air currents
Blowing the humidity
Beyond mere degrees
Fan blades
Circulating hungry thoughts
Along with captive desire
Sweat and sin
Recuperating
In the steamy night
To ply the gulf stream
One more time

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.

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.

Code. A poem.

I am yet to crack the code,
the enigma that I see.
These thoughts temptation sowed,
this conundrum that you’ve been.
I will try each combination,
I will twist and turn and pry
and after a long privation,
I will crack your code—in time.

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.

Poets Loved: Epith. By Carol Muske-Dukes.

Epith. By Carol Muske-Dukes.

Here’s the little dressmaker
on her knees at your feet,
mouth full of pins:
fixing you in the dummy’s image.

Your belled satin shivers like
a goblet of fizzled brut–
You wanted it late in life,
happiness, wanted little family

but after the kids grew up.
Like a saint on her death pallet,
you longed for an erotic God
but a refined deity–

not some oversexed Zeus
in a see-through raincoat,
spritzing gold coins,
rattling the canopy. No,

at last you’ve found a groom
born to forget the ring,
the bride’s name–
a regular holy ghost.

You forget yourself
with each glittering pin,
each chip off the old rock,
each sip of the long toast

to your famous independence,
negotiated at such cost–
and still refusing to fit.

A poem by Carol Muske-Dukes. I really enjoy her poetry.

Don’t know her? She’s a brilliant poet. You can find out more about her by clicking here.

Poets Loved: Fame is a fickle food. By Emily Dickinson

Fame is a fickle food. By Emily Dickinson

Fame is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate
Whose table once a
Guest but not
The second time is set
Whose crumbs the crows inspect
And with ironic caw
Flap past it to the
Farmer’s corn
Men eat of it and die

A poem by Emily Dickinson. I really like her poetry.

Don’t know her? She’s pretty famous. And she’s a brilliant poet. You can find out more about her by clicking here.

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