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 … Continue reading The Wild Surf (Beached, part 1). 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, … Continue reading Fall for you. 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 … Continue reading Window. 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. Continue reading The Flame. 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 Continue reading House. A poem.
I lost myself in her smile A subtle maze in which I was held prisoner For nights and days Never to escape But even if I did I could not resist Her enigmatic charms And the need to be Recaptured by her bliss Continue reading The Maze. A poem.
One momentWith youIs likeA lifetimeOf constantMysteries and surprisesAnd far too goodTo be true Continue reading Moment. A poem.
https://stevestillstanding.com/2017/02/19/unrequited-a-poem/ This is the second poem I ever posted. I’m feeling nostalgic! Steve 🙂 Continue reading Unrequited. A poem redux.
My heartInspired by youPumps a thousandBeats a minuteNot a heart attackNot a strokeBut heavenIn your eyes Continue reading My Heart. A poem.
She stands before me And smiles that way And talks that way And looks that way And laughs that way She steals my heart And takes it away And hides it so And I’m lost to her And found again Continue reading Statuesque. A poem.
What’s in the look A casual glance From him to her Then back again What they’d give To know for sure To save them some Embarrassment Continue reading The Look. A poem.
Your siren call It drags me deep below Onto the corals of your heart Then sets me drifting Into roiling currents And furtive tempests Reach out, take my hand Hold me in your salty embrace Continue reading Siren. A poem.
If you were all the elements Of the earth, air, water, fire You would still be more than all combined You would shake the earth and change the tides Be the greatest storm and the hottest pyre And I would still worship you from afar The deepest truth and the deepest lie Continue reading Elemental. A poem.
The essence of you Like perfumed tea A higher state of being Rain falling on the sea And the solitude of trees Taking me away To a far better place The essence of you Continue reading Essence. A poem.
I suffer from the hugest crushes on women who have no idea who I am. I’m a bit of a twit, really. But I love women. I can’t help it. Shame I’m not more confident. Here’s a poem about that. Continue reading Crush. A poem.
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