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 … Continue reading Poets Loved: Fame is a fickle food. By Emily Dickinson
Tease this silver filament, an ambit claim on every foot, squeezed and cajoled through calloused hands. Climb this tensile fibre, climb until the heavens bloom and your body retches from the unyielding pressure. When you reach your goal, set free … Continue reading Rope. A poem.
Water flows freely In the garden of delight Washing you in sin 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 The Garden. A haiku.
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.
Fire and Ice. By Robert Frost. Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think … Continue reading Poets Loved: Fire and Ice. A poem by Robert Frost.
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 … Continue reading Incontrovertible. 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.
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. For more of my poetry, check out … Continue reading Beach Birthday. A poem.
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 … Continue reading You and I. A sonnet.
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.
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. For more of my poetry, check … Continue reading Too Small A Word. A poem.
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 … Continue reading Merry Christmas to all!
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 … Continue reading Whimsy. A poem.
My fealty to you remains unchallenged by stray thoughts, unlike alley cats on the prowl, sidling and voracious, with impropriety in mind. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most … Continue reading Fealty. A poem.
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