Ahead. A Haiku Trilogy. Mouth The subversive grin Making mellifluous voice A love explosion Eyes Eyes of deep regret Wash away your highest hopes Rivers to the sea Ears What bitter sounds made Cannot be unheard again Forever doubting . It’s Haiku Friday. (Yeah, I made it a thing last week. I can do that. I think.) Here’s some Haiku I composed, just for you. Cheers Steve 🙂 Continue reading Haiku Friday. Yep, it’s a thing, now.
Nights staring into gloom. A mirror to reason, reflecting all your fallibilities and failing sensibilities. All your new found confidence, blown away like mist, before winds of uncertainty. Your moon is waning tonight. You are a crescent shell, threatening to pitch headlong into the drifting, darkening tide. Best sleep, before you persuade yourself otherwise. As you slowly sink, the ever-present gloom drinks up your half empty cup, all your remaining light, and leaves you bathed in Nights. Continue reading Nights. A poem.
Sugar pearls captured in her smile, as rich as maple syrup seas. I long to swim there and taste her sweet, warm waters on my tongue. Continue reading Sugar Pearls. A poem.
Flip left Flip right Match? Or natch? Just like a toy in a chocolate egg (sometimes broken) Tinder surprise My first book of poetry, The All or the Nothing, is available now as an e-book from most online distributors. To … Continue reading Tinder Surprise. A poem.
Every laboured keystroke, every considered verb and noun. Every gritted mental blank, every meaning so profound. Every silken metaphor, every glorious turn of phrase. Every underlying message, every edit, every change. Every keystroke, every line, ever thankful every day. Every joy I write that lies within, that flowers on every page. Thank you. . This poem is a thank you to all of my readers. Everything I do is for you. Cheers Steve 🙂 Continue reading Every Word. A poem and a thank you.
Shut me down, flip that switch. Turn out my lights and hear me Breathe my final maudlin death rattle. You have such a way with words, you kill me every time. Every. Time. Continue reading Flip That Switch. A poem.
Congregation This congregation What secrets are kept in here Hidden agendas Tai Chi Slow and graceful moves All mindfulness and mystique Far too many forms Prayer Bend my knee to Thou Communicate by steeple Wait for an answer . If you’ve followed me for a while you will know I absolutely love Japanese Haiku, with its 5/7/5 syllable structure. Here’s a few I wrote recently. I think I’ll make Haiku Friday my ‘thing’ for Fridays. Just because. Cheers Steve 🙂 PS Want to read some more Haiku? Whereku? Hereku. Continue reading Haiku Friday. Three haikus in a row.
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.
Shoulder Lean You Me Weight Lifted Smile Shoulder Lean … Continue reading Shoulder. A poem.
My iPhone is an older model…by a lot. The outside’s looking dated and she’s slower than she was. I’m thinking of trading up, because the new model is superhot. Was a time when I couldn’t take my hands off her, when my fingers traced her delicate contours. She was at my beck and call. Some kind of mystical allure, of that you can be sure. But lately she seems a little…old hat. Dressed her up in fine new clothes and that seemed to work a bit, but the magic, my friend, is long, long gone. Now, this is all I’m left … Continue reading Superhot. A poem.
Please, talk to me, even if my foot is lodged constantly in my mouth. Your voice soothes my butterfly heart and lifts me to a higher plane on which I soar. Continue reading Talk To Me. 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.
Acquiesce to the night’s probing fingers, an invitation given without betrayal. Shake and stutter in these jealous hills and vales. Writhe in a cave of dream-inspired torment, until dawn awakes the feeble sleeper and time restarts; a clock has no end. Continue reading Acquiesce. A poem.
Would that all these angry thoughts could energise me to action, rather than distraction. These angry thoughts, hiding fears and tears Everlasting. Continue reading Angry Thoughts. A poem.
I wander down life’s corridor. Testing doors: I open, close. But through this hall I walk alone, the only path I’ve ever known. “Save my soul,” I cry tonight. Take my hand, hold me tight, help me find the door that’s right. Kill this pain and bring me back to life. Continue reading Corridor. A poem.
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