Metal Head. A poem.

Rage
And fire
And bitter
Continuity
That feeds
The anger
Resentment
And hate
This metal
Slicing
Through my gut
Into my head
I should
But can’t
Forget

For more Poetry, click here.

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For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Smack Down. A poem.

Smack down
And the floor
Is sandpaper on my cheek
And the scent of sweat
And dead skin
Permeates my senses
Until I’m up again
And punching
Way above my weight class
Again and again
No more canvass
Only the fight
Only the win
And I’m alive
To fight another day
Until the next
Smack down

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.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Listen. A poem.

Here in the unyielding silence,

I hear lonely, pensive thoughts;
Feel anxious heart beats drumming;
Sense ageless rain extinguishing the fires of a thousand shining lights.

A constant elegy,
Soundtrack to my existence.

Do you hear it, too?

Listen

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.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Old Ones. A poem.

I wonder what the old ones think
When they see young eyes upon the brink
Who tell them what they think they know
Ignoring the wisdom of their growth

Do they roll their eyes, nod and smile
Do they walk a metre, like we walk a mile
Wiling away their remaining days
Waiting for a stage on which to play

I wonder what the old ones feel
As the new young rise and supersede
With their new ideals and platitudes
Technologies and attitudes

I wonder what the old ones think
And if they’re proud, or if hearts sink
Because it wasn’t much easier, then
When they were young, before time caught them

I wonder what the old ones think.

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.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Screens. A poem.

My reflection on the screen
Is a reflection of my soul
Empty and two-dimensional

At times our eyes are one
Mixing and mingling
Like ghosts in the electrical ether

There is only need and want
As our fingers touch
Across fine lines of neon tracery

Blending in the shadows
And phosphor brightness
Of dual suns in heat

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.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Forgotten. A poem.

Blinkered, leading the way from behind
This train of thought left the station long ago
Left you standing vacant on the platform
Waiting for another to come along
But you’ve forgotten who you are
And they’ve forgotten you and your scars
Consideration and commiseration
Time to come in from the cold

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.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

The Darkness Won. A poem.

When darkness kneads my shoulder
Like an old and long, lost friend,
Tar dripping from his fingers
Bringing pain and bitter ends.


I kneel and bear that heavy weight
And thank him for his visit.
And sink below, a drowning man
With a lead weight for his business.


And darkness smiles, cackles with glee,
His foot upon my face.
And crushes the last vestiges,
My soul gone, without a trace.


And before he leaves, he glances back,
To make sure his work is done.
And there I lie, a craven corpse –
Thus, has the darkness won.

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.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

#2ManyBooks. A Poem.

I have far too many books. Far

#2ManyBooks

Too many to read in one month, or one day,
one afternoon a plenty, one year or decade.
I read a few at a time: one here and one there;
how many more, who’s to say, who’s to care?

#2ManyBooks

I’m an organizational champ, a pedantic time loon,
But with so much to do, so very much to do.
My bookcase keeps growing and I’m sure you’ll agree
it’s remains never ending, no matter how much I read.

#2ManyBooks

I have far too many books and this much is true:
I would not lose them for anyone

#NotEvenYou

 

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.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

RightWhereUWant2B. A poem.

U make things so hard
When they should B E Z

But E Z is not
What U want
What U need

(A little inconsistency
A little conspiracy
A little paranoid delusion
A little freaked-out seclusion)

And U R right where
U want 2 B
U need 2 B

U make things so hard
When they should B E Z

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.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Cold, Hard Facts. A poem.

Empty out these cold, hard facts
Pour them in a bowl to inspect
The entrails, mysteries unsolved
By the clueless and the klutzes

Cold, hard facts and nothing else
But a ringing that won’t leave
Your heart and ears, a reminder
That you had it better, once

Before these cold, hard facts
Blew you away one lonely
Windswept day in August
And left you better off dead

All these cold, hard facts
Pounding at your temple
Like a barrel to your head
A bullet of cold, hard facts

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.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Ice Cold. A poem.

A perilous montage
Belies the truth
A potent mix that
Soaks in waters
Where icebergs
And submersibles
Hide bittersweet
Goodbyes

A dangerous place
Windswept with lies
A potent reminder
That all is not
As it was or could be
An icy reminder
Of yesterday’s
Foreshadowing

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.

Outside and In. A poem.

How I miss you
Even when you’re here
Prostrate beside me
Worshiping rod and staff
Valley and furrow
Driven to excess
And shaken to the core

How I miss you
Outside and in

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.

Kal-el. A poem.

Sky of blue up here
Where cacophony
And constancy
Plies the airwaves
And escape is the stuff
Of fantasy
Where responsibility
Is a tribulation
Accepted righteously
The world cries
In hypocrisy
And only a refugee
Can address it
With moral consistency
Two feet on the ground
Head in the clouds

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 – Path.

My photography. My poetry. A nice mix, I think.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

Steve Still Standing - upstart photographer

Path. A poem.

Surrounded, enclosed,
cut off from all and sundry.
You opened the way,
you cleared a path.
I walked to you,
and the sun shone anew.

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.

Currents and Whirlpools. A poem.

Somewhere along the way
I lost sight of yesterday

Drifting on currents and whirlpools

Threatening to take me
Down to places I’d rather not be

And so I fell as deeply as one could
As far down as one never ever should
A stone and leaden weight
Sinking deeper into fate

Violent currents and whirlpools

Threatening to spin me right around
To run my hard fought world aground
Like a ship without a helm
Like a lifetime overwhelmed

And after all that, I survived
Left somewhat ragged and indecisive
Yet I struggled, rose to my feet
An embittered revolutionary

Fighting currents and whirlpools

(That won’t take me there again
Won’t spin me down the drain)

Although I live with constant hurt
The culmination of this work
I will walk with head held high
Still standing and not crying

And to all those currents and whirlpools

I am not afraid of you

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.

My Lady Waits. A poem.

My lady waits in conscious thought,
Precluded and abstaining,
With fickle motions bought
And sold in a moment’s notice.
She stands and lies and shivers,
Like summer rainfall or icy leaves
At winter’s end, when all delights
Must finally shake those fickle traces
And embrace their bitter finality.

My lady waits and presents
Herself to me, and now I shiver
As the wind that fills my heart
And blinded, new swept soul
Lifts me up and casts me aside
In another long felt gesture
Of indignation and unkempt desire.

My lady waits for me,
And I listen for her call.

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.

So. A stream of consciousness poem.

So.

So so so.

So, a lot of people seem to have an issue with uncertainty. About where they are headed, about the meaning of life. You know. The big questions.

I’m one of those. Sometimes.

So.

So, I know I’m on a path. I’m a believer in predestination. Destiny. Fate. Call it what you want. I never used to be, but too many things have played out in my life to be coincidence. Believe it or not.

So.

So, yeah, I’m a believer. And as such, I’m not really uncertain about where I’ll end up, big picture-wise.

But I am pretty uncertain about where I’m gonna be with the little stuff. The nitty gritty. The stuff that drags us down. Money problems. Love. Family. Getting by.

So.

So, I write poetry, and I use it to express myself and talk about sh&t that worries me and stuff I need to get off my chest. I bet you do, too.

Even this train of thought is a poem. It flows. It expresses. It’s me.

So.

So so so.

So, yeah, I worry about stuff all the time. Just like you. Just like every f&@$ing person in the whole world. But I’m selfish, like every f$&@ing person in the whole world.

And although I think and worry about others, deep down I worry more about myself because I’m just a selfish pr$ck.

Who swears a lot.

So.

So, a train of thought doesn’t always have to stop at the station to make its point, you know.

Sometimes it just has to ride along those tracks.

Even if it never quite gets to its destination.

So.

So, uncertainty sucks.

So, let that train get to the station.

And try not to worry so.

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.

Briars and Thorns. A poem.

All these briars and thorns—
Sticking and slicing,
Pricking and enticing—
Patterning my body
And reflecting my somber discontent.

Marking a trail upon this empty flesh—
A patina of scar tissue,
A fleshy, vertiginous map—
To guide me like a lost,
Angst-filled, wayward child.

Back from the emptiness
Of my long congealing heart.

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.

Drowning Not Waving. A poem.

It’s so easy
to wave
And then
slide below
And let the tide
take me
Wherever
we’ll go

Waving
not drowning
Just a puppet
on show
Drowning
not waving
Behind a
curtain of woe

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.

Delineate. A poem.

Let me draw an outline
Around your heart
And delineate
The love between
Let me itemise it
Systematically
Congruently
Congenially
Tangentially
Until it is so defined
That it no longer
Means a thing
To either you or me
Because logic
And love
Are not the same
And you and I
Delineate it
Differently

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.

Blame. A poem.

I took the blame
For it was my lot
To stumble and toil
And make my weary way
Back to life
From whence I was cast
Aside

But blame should be
Apportioned
Fairly and to each
For blame lies not in one
But in the actions
And inactions
Of all

Forevermore

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.

Murder of Crows. A poem.

A tendency to exaggerate.
Variable and inconsistent,
A migratory bird, unaware
Which hemisphere is up
Or what time of year it is.

A mountain and a molehill,
Keynotes of your dependency.
Furtive and insecure
And longing for approval;
All wayward illegitimacy.

Time to find the truth within
And not try so hard
To be party to an
Estranged and inconsolable
Murder of crows.

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.

Switch. A poem.

I
stopped
to
think
and
thought

Perhaps I shouldn’t do so
Perhaps I should just stand and rise
Above all the crap I’m floating in
All the muck and detritus
I’ve let gather around me
All these years and tears
And heartfelt fears
That congest the waters
And drag me down
A skeletal grip upon my ankle
Clasping while I writhe
And shake in heedless contempt
Until I’m submerged within myself
And every opportunity to
Reach the light above
Is taken from me

As
easily
as
flicking
a
switch

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.

Steak Sandwich. A poem.

Brown, blood-streaked
breadcrumb entree
Built to serve
Consistently
It roils and rocks
In the mouth, awash
Then on it floats
Sea of acid wash
A meal of kings
A grand entry
Ignominious exit
Consistency
Brown, blood-streaked
A warning bell
To the doctor, now
And time will tell

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.

Pop Stars. A poem.

Too many pop stars
popping off like stars
or popping corn, just
Mini-fashion supernovas
grabbing my attention
in an explosion of pop culture
Sympathetically
Simplistically
Setting the scene
In just fifteen
minutes of sobriety

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.

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.

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.

Pulse. A poem.

Tar, congealing in your veins,
sheltering your heartbeat
in its quicksilver repose.

Aortic mysteries, dissected
atriums and ventricles
at ease and at odds,
pulling and pushing
through luxurious days
and overheated nights.

What will it take to quicken
your lackadaisical pulse,
to break your blood and soul
from this lethargy that holds
you fastidiously to ransom?

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.

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