Scene, Set and Match. A poem.

Scene: a small, Italian restaurant.

Two newly-matched.
Time set aside.
Something right
and something wrong.
Laughter and humility.
Understanding and empathy.
Certainty and unreality.
Scene, set and match.

Let’s do this all again,
shall we?

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.


Steam. A poem.

Air currents
Blowing the humidity
Beyond mere degrees
Fan blades
Circulating hungry thoughts
Along with captive desire
Sweat and sin
In the steamy night
To ply the gulf stream
One more time

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.

Twosome. A poem.

You creep up on me
An inveterate stalker
A ghostly presence
A firefly somnambulist
(Shadowing its prey)

You wrap me up
(A Christmas treat)
In sunflower petals
An itinerant limpet
Squeezing me senseless

You take me down
And bleed me until dry
Subcutaneous showers
(That eventually leave me)
Drained and serendipitous

Now we entwined
Seek a sunlight sojourn
(In darkness we are)
A tattooed compromise
Until morning arrives

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Half-light. A poem.

Sweat and toil and creaking
springs, grasping fingers and the scent of hallowed
limbs. Perfect and imperfect rhythms in
motion, bestial howls and fire and tender
susurration, collated in the
half-light of a muted TV.

From this vantage point we survey the hedonic
battlefield, where dust and smoke dissipates and we
victors rejoice with liquid tongues and golden
perspicacity. The half-light lingers;
we prepare to charge into the fray again.

The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry. To find out how to buy a copy,
click here.

Entwined. A poem.

Entwined, we two;
encapsulated in a mad
statement, read between lines
and screamed between pages.

A subtle madness,
shortness of breath,
long, laboured movement
and languid, liquid refrain.
Teetering on the brink
of apogee, into a light
that breaks this shared darkness
and brings ecstasy.

This pleasure and pain
could last forever and a day,
if we so choose.
But the yearning world
entices us beyond this
twined embrace.

Our coda demands
it meet a fitting end.

My first book of poetry, The All or the Nothing, is available now as an e-book from most online distributors. To find out more, click here.

Well Met. A Poem.

A blast from the past
We knew each other better then
When our saliva mingled and so did our sweat
Now it’s small talk, not quite the same
About families, jobs and Game of Thrones
Never mentioning once
How we were like vines, all intertwined
Animals unleashed, despoiling motel rooms, back seats and parks
Pretending to others that we just met
Lying to better halves about where we went
Today it’s small talk, knowing smiles
And awkward farewells
Well met, lessons learned

A poem about misguided affairs of the heart.

Swept up and swept away, never thinking about the real price you pay.

Magic. A poem.

As if by magic
One world ended and another began
Furtive baby steps into the new dawn
I raised my voice, emboldened, and sang
As if by magic
Suddenly you appeared, I was invested
I was lost in you so deep that before I knew it
My heart was bursting free from my chest
As if by magic
I reached out, brought you close, let you in
Finally moving on from tears and bitterness
All the endless waiting worth it in the end
As if by magic
The better person I had long resolved to be
The impossible you became my everything
And love had finally found its way to me   


Yeah, I’m a bit of a sap when it comes to love.

Still looking. Still waiting. Still imagining.

I’ve got a good feeling.


Embrace. A poem.

Start The warmth of embrace Lingering Bodies merge Hair mingles Tentacles feeling their way Gingerly at first Then with understanding Forthright Bellows breathe Entwined Reason forgotten Locomotion Salt and sea Taste the ocean Fish on your tongue Drilling for oil In the depths Until the end The fast release Raining inside The empty gesture The habit of escape Finish

Another experimental poem from me. Just in that kind of mood.

La Petite Mort. A poem.

She chokes the life out of you
Her not so subtle fingers
Silencing your protests
Her oh so subtle features
Blurring to incomprehension

Your last breath exhales
A death rattle motion
Her not so subtle fingers
Lighting up a cigarette
Reflecting on her oh so subtle features

She’s ready to wake you
And start again


Despite what you might think after reading this poem, I am not into passing out during sex. The subject made for an interesting poem, though.

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