I take photos. I write poems. Here, I have a chance to marry them in wedded bliss. Cheers Steve 🙂 Row Boat. A poem. Sun baking, back to the bright skies. Perhaps a tan will disguise the smile lines and … Continue reading Upstart Photographer – Row Boat
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.
Photo, Poem—two of a kind in the best of minds. Or the worst. You tell me. Cheers Steve 🙂 The House. A poem (Abandoned, part 2) This shell lingers like the aftertaste of a charcoal-flavoured entree, partially consumed like an … Continue reading Upstart Photographer – The Abandoned House
I’ve been lost many times before Each time I wandered out your door Full of ample needs and wants, for sure Unaware of the trials I had, in store I was lost sometime, just like before Last time I thought … Continue reading Lost Before Last. A poem.
I trusted you to pay the bills, until I received those pointed calls; found them hidden, of course, in out of the way places, away from prying eyes and your surreptitious faces. I listened to the constant stream Of lies … Continue reading Trust-less Daze (Gambling Daze, part 4). A poem.
She liked responsibility— it gave her credibility, a way to cover erstwhile tracks, unpaid bills and missing goods; her lies falling on naive ears, infallible fallibility. The pawnshop, her best friend (other than the pokies, that is), until she learned … Continue reading Truth-less Daze (Gambling Daze, part 3). A poem.
It has been about a year since ‘The All or the Nothing’, my first book of poetry, was published as an e-book. It’s now available in print, as well. I guess it’s time for the follow up. I’ve been working … Continue reading Writer Interrupted: The next poetry book
I remember carrying my son Two months old and sleeping Into wayward pubs and clubs In search of a wayward mother Bewitched by poker machines And the scent of an easy win. I remember the humiliation Of asking doormen and … Continue reading Wayward Daze (Gambling Daze, part 2). A poem.
She played the pokies in her day, her singular gaze unflinching and intractably admiring. The stars and bells, her friends; a gentle, constant riot of affection and affectation, pleading to stay and coaxing her with opium overtures of digitised ecstasy. … Continue reading Poker Machine Daze (Gambling Daze, part 1). A poem.
You sneak into my world past locks, alarms, sigils, wards down corridors of fatalistic compromise through rooms of idealistic circumspection and find me waiting earnestly wanting, more or less what you want no need to be so stealthy For more of … Continue reading Stealthy. A poem.
Transfixed by you, statuesque in the hurricane, riding tempestuous slipstream currents— a goddess of hail and happenstance. You’re a lightning rod, attracting joules and fools like me, incontrovertibly shattering stratospheric records like a pheromone cyclone. After your storm has passed, … Continue reading Hurricane Heart. A poem.
I recently found a house in the mountains, burnt out and abandoned. Resting on a window pane, its tenuous pages teased by the wind, was a partially charred book. The page settled in the breeze. As I took a photo … Continue reading Upstart Photographer – The Book
I’m spiralling again: an anxious emptiness, a long bitter refrain, that repeats over and over and over and over and over in my angry, lonely brain. Old friend, you’ve never let me go, though you always let me down/ bring … Continue reading Old Friend. A poem.
I avoid you when I see you, now. Not ships passing in the night but rather garbage scows, no more trashy encounters or the like. No potential head-ons or man overboard, now endlesss drunken shanties to help me smile While … Continue reading Avoidance. A poem.
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