Illiterate, that’s me Unable to decipher The signals She’s sending I’m not stand-offish I’m just not sure How to interpret Italics, san serif and cursive A woman is a novel Written in filigree So difficult to read And yet all I truly need Continue reading Illiterate. A poem.
Forty days and forty nights A season in the abyss That will pass in time Bringing light to your dark An end to this injustice And a guiltless mind Continue reading Forty. A poem.
I dreamed that my Angel walked with me And we talked at length A gentle discourse about books, music and coffee And on the hill beneath the spire We explored each other shyly Espousing our thoughts in their entirety And we kissed each other meekly Thinking how wonderful this could be Stomachs churning with dancing butterflies Wondering if a love so true could lie I dreamed that my Angel walked with me But it was just a dream And dreams belong to sleep Continue reading Angel. A poem.
Love/Hate Love, why do you hate? Opposition comforts you Like heat in winter Distance Thirteen miles away The distance might be light years A cosmos to you Landing Heavy gravity Trajectory uncertain Final crash landing Continue reading ‘Love/Hate’ – a Haiku Trilogy
Just a haircut But almost a new me Maybe not that extreme Short back and sides No style or flare Not much different Not enough hair If only one could change one’s lot With just a haircut Continue reading Haircut. A poem.
Streets afire with love divine Taking names and stumbling feet Liquor-fuelled lust surrounds Like ships that sail on silken sheets Uproarious dinner conversations Filled with gentle goodbyes And enthusiastic hellos And iPhone intermissions A cello paints the night In shades of blue and grey Pining for the one that flew Internal circumspection played Each over-revved car drives by Panthers stealthy, by light they slept Reanimated by the sunset lie To hunt abroad for civil prey And here I am in bed, alone again Listening to the many voices Of Saturday night retreaded And wondering why I am here by choice Continue reading Saturday Night. A poem.
I woke up this morning And died a little inside Again Always the same thing Too much overthinking Again A mind is a cruel beast Taunting and self loathing Again I imagine a place of rest But it’s so far away Again Maybe I’ll just sleep Forever and a day Again Continue reading Again. A poem.
I took you on, baggage and all Your overstuffed luggage Way over the weight limit My own baggage was carry on Small and non-descript Since then my luggage has grown To the size of an elephant And I’m the only one who can carry it Far too costly and expensive So I’ll carry it on my own From now on Alone Continue reading Baggage. A poem.
I tried to get up But the black dog held me down Every movement was too hard Every thought a leaden weight Black dog growled And I submitted, giving up again The bed was my cage, my brain the lion tamer “Just who do you think you are?” he cried, cracking the whip again “This is who you’re meant to be,” I heard him through my pain And I lay there and wept, because some truths are hard to accept And the black dog lay upon me, a smile/a snarl on its lips “Today is not your day,” it said. … Continue reading Dregs. A poem.
A dog’s nose smells every blade of grass Painting a picture in scent of everything that’s passed Counting the stops on every sandstone brick Smelling the reminders on the tires of, oh so expensive cars Rolling in the grass of … Continue reading A Dog’s Nose. A poem.
My last vestige of hope Beaten from me with the crowbar Of fear and distaste in your eyes Each blow taking my breath Bloodying my mind and soul Making me less of a man Until there’s nothing left But anger at the injustice of it all The irony of lie and truth If I’d lied there would be no hurt but my own With the truth there is your pain and judgement which I bear But my conscience will go on I lost the war before it began So raise your club and beat me Again and again and again … Continue reading Defeat. A poem.
Each chord falls into place Unruly magic flying forth In the act of creation and composition Notes and rhythms coaxed From lucid fingers like pixie dust Sound and motion realised from imagination Lyrics profound or immaterial Whatever I choose to … Continue reading Mine. A poem.
Wasting away for you It’s the least that I can do Collapsed into myself My own considerable hell Lying here balled and foetal A fate completely total Floating in dead space All oxygen sucked away Darkness perpetuated Emptiness encapsulated Exhausted and beset Consumed with regret Wasting away for you It’s the least that I can do Continue reading Wasting. A poem.
An average car tyre Covers thousands of miles Before it gets to the end of its time Rarely a smooth ride The tyre bumps and slides Goes round, then flattens and dies Some days I’m a tyre Just rolling through strife And always left wondering why And if I’m a tyre That explains why I’m tired Of going round and round all of my life Another experiment in meter, timing and rhyme. It’s based on limerick structure. I like to try different poetic forms. Free verse is cool, but sometimes I think I use it a lot because I’m a … Continue reading Tyre. A poem.
Her eyes Moonlit pools to drown in Her smile Life preserver to save me Her laugh Ecstasy I was addicted to Her love Constant life renewal The dream Don’t ever wake me from Too late Face the truth, she’s gone Continue reading Wake Up. A poem.
Laidback DM: SteveStillStanding.com 