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.

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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.

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!

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!

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.

You and Me. A poem.

This touch fuelling
DESIRE
wanton and wastrel
ECSTASY
diamond moments of
PLEASURE
placating needs in
FIRE
that scorches earth
THIRST
no longer barren
CARNAL
swollen contempt
SATED
eventually
and now just
YOU and ME

I write a lot of poetry, some of which comes from my head, some from my heart, and some from my a$&@. Many don’t appear on this website. For more poems, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers.
Click here to find out how to purchase a copy to treasure forever, or at least until some other e-book takes your fancy 😉

Keepsake. A poem.

I hear you,
I see you;
your mirror face
tells no lies
but hides the truth,
like a waxing moon
hiding the sun
from the subtle stars.

I hear you,
I see you,
I hold you;
you are wine
within my mouth,
light within my vision,
tincture at my touch.
My keepsake.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry, available at most online book sellers. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Half-light. A poem.

Sweat and toil and creaking
springs, grasping fingers and the scent of hallowed
limbs. Perfect and imperfect rhythms in
motion, bestial howls and fire and tender
susurration, collated in the
half-light of a muted TV.

From this vantage point we survey the hedonic
battlefield, where dust and smoke dissipates and we
victors rejoice with liquid tongues and golden
perspicacity. The half-light lingers;
we prepare to charge into the fray again.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

The Wild Surf (Beached, part 1). A poem.

The wild surf, like his impetuous heart,
pounds and beats the sandy shore,
like a pugilist with vanity to spare.
Here the relentless, crashing waves
make their mark in odd time signatures,
in fluid and passionate syncopation,
a symphony of wind, water and sand.

The spray in his face is explicative
of this subtle, blithely carefree place,
all this beach has ever been
until time ends and begins again.
The ocean’s magnetic riptide beckons;
a spirited soul returns freely to her fold.
Here his heart forever rests in she.

Dedicated to my good friend, Andrew.

The All or the Nothing is my first book of poetry, and if you like what you’ve been reading then you’ll love it! To find out how to get a copy, click here.
Support starving poets everywhere!

Fall for you. A poem.

The light is fading, you’re walking out;
she’s reclining luxuriantly.

The light in those magical eyes

is enough to blind a man,

before you question why.
That smile, combined with sylvan form,

is hot enough to melt a man

(raised on a diet of ‘avoid’).
Like a supernova sundae,
take him out at the knees,
leave him confused and dazed,
with thoughts, indiscreet.

Get out of there before that brazen temptress
(Who doesn’t know her power over all that exists)

enthralls you with her siren voice;

makes you fumble, stumble,
makes the floor your only choice.

Escape while you can, before you

fall for her

again. And again. And again.

Window. A poem.

She’s seated before a window, sun highlighting shiny diamonds in her hair. 

Her fingers are flamingoes on her smart phone, a wily dance sped up to double speed, of muscle memory and familiar keys. 

Lips as full as pillows that I long to cushion with my own, and the dress she wears hugs contours of which I am so painfully aware.

Her eyes escape to velvet shores and silken sheets upon the beach, and I must look away too soon, lest she see me here.

Scant feet separate us and small talk fills the space between, all luscious notes and plosives, siren tones and sibilants, all lead to hidden depths unseen.

And so I say my goodbyes of which she’s painfully unaware, dragging feet and head hung low as I make my way back home, and relive those few minutes that we were together there.

The Flame. A poem.

The flame
burns like phosphor,
ignited and soaring by degrees:

The passion,
the anger
(and the shame).

The flame,
super luminal intensity, burns
me up,
turns me
ashen.

(For how long will I shine before the all too brief spark burns low and fades? How long before the darkness encroaches again?)

The flame
wakes me from listlessness,
brings me to back to life,

again
and again.

Light me up, turn me on,
and never

fade away.

House. A poem.

I would build you a house
If you would live in it with me
I’d build it tall and proud
To share with you and family

We could live in golden halls
Dance to music from above
Until the furtive angels called
Our love I’m not worthy of

Let me build you a house
And together we will be
A perfect love to dream about
As one until eternity

Well Met. A Poem.

A blast from the past
We knew each other better then
When our saliva mingled and so did our sweat
Now it’s small talk, not quite the same
About families, jobs and Game of Thrones
Never mentioning once
How we were like vines, all intertwined
Animals unleashed, despoiling motel rooms, back seats and parks
Pretending to others that we just met
Lying to better halves about where we went
Today it’s small talk, knowing smiles
And awkward farewells
Well met, lessons learned


A poem about misguided affairs of the heart.

Swept up and swept away, never thinking about the real price you pay.

Magic. A poem.

As if by magic
One world ended and another began
Furtive baby steps into the new dawn
I raised my voice, emboldened, and sang
 
As if by magic
Suddenly you appeared, I was invested
I was lost in you so deep that before I knew it
My heart was bursting free from my chest
 
As if by magic
I reached out, brought you close, let you in
Finally moving on from tears and bitterness
All the endless waiting worth it in the end
 
As if by magic
The better person I had long resolved to be
The impossible you became my everything
And love had finally found its way to me   

 

Yeah, I’m a bit of a sap when it comes to love.

Still looking. Still waiting. Still imagining.

I’ve got a good feeling.

Soon.

True Love. A poem.

Where
Does true love sleep
And what wanton dreams
Do dwell 
Inside a mind so keen
 
When
Will true love find me
And what stories will it tell
That love
Perhaps, will set me free
 
Who 
Will true love be
Will she pass me by anon
Like smoke
Or will she reach out for me
 
What
Will true love do
Will it quench this longing thirst 
That binds
Like a desert tide consumes
 
Why
Must true love be
the soul yearns to find
The one
That fills the aching need
 

I like writing poems about love.

Still hanging out for it. Someday, it’ll find me.

Hopefully, when it does, I won’t be like the skeleton at the bus stop.

Embrace. A poem.

Start The warmth of embrace Lingering Bodies merge Hair mingles Tentacles feeling their way Gingerly at first Then with understanding Forthright Bellows breathe Entwined Reason forgotten Locomotion Salt and sea Taste the ocean Fish on your tongue Drilling for oil In the depths Until the end The fast release Raining inside The empty gesture The habit of escape Finish

Another experimental poem from me. Just in that kind of mood.

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