Rose-Colored Glasses. A poem.

The rose-colored glasses slipped away
and I saw you as you really are,
crowned in wishful thinking and spoilt
disparity of thought, overwrought,
less than I expected and more than I assumed.

I guess I didn’t know what I wanted,
or why you made me blue,
just another misdirected convolution
leading me astray, as always.

Got to get my mind in gear,
stop crunching the shift, driving in reverse,
overcome my hapless fears and get back on course.
And where would that be?
I’m not really sure.

But I am sure I’ll make the same mistake again,
unless I can come up with a way
to rewire my faulty brain.

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.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

You and I. A sonnet.

I am found: tears and fears and blind,
wandering far from the font of my regrets.
The nurtured pain in me enshrined,
to forgive and finally to forget.

The prisons in which we held ourselves
have run their long and lowly courses;
we languished apart within those hells,
and now, together, walk without pause.

These pale shackles cast to ground,
winsome tales steeped in honesty—
shared more and less, in time unbound,
to shake our guilt and shake the tree.

As obstinate as misguided dogs
with countless tricks to do and learn.
Slim pickings on cajoling bones,
but passion enough to slowly burn.

You and I were destined, it seems to me,
For something greater than a simple fling.

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.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

 

Just Another Day. A poem.

There’s a hush across the savannah
Blinking eyes raised to the dawn
As I find my balance for the day
My first steps are always awkward
Morning coffee jumpstarts my brain
Some cereal, milk and platitudes
Pick up my guitar and strum awhile
As aimless as I feel, so uninspired
Your chair is empty, as it must remain
How I miss you in every way
I’ll have to settle for another day
Just another day.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Fealty. A poem.

My fealty to you
remains unchallenged
by stray thoughts,

unlike alley cats
on the prowl,
sidling and voracious,
with impropriety
in mind.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Hurricane Heart. 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,
and the sun breaks
the clotted clouds,
I’m the only windswept survivor:
shaken, stirred, shocked,
and praying for yet more rain,

to turn this aching, burnished desert
into fields of dew-swept gold.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Avoidance. 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 in my mind I sing long of discord,
blue notes to accompany my alibi.

And all the while
trying to forget I knew you.

A quick two step and I’m a private dancer,
skirting the alleyway to miss your eyes.
Ultimately, I’ll hold myself together
as I always have, or so I’d like.

The weight of my regret—two tonnes—
It pulls me down when you’re around.
And so, under the carpet, swept,
the bitter thoughts and all I’ve left.

I’m trying to forget I knew you.

And that’s been unsuccessful, too.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Save the Poet!

via Save the Poet!

Like my poetry? For poems you haven’t seen before, try The All or the Nothing, my first book. It’s available now, in print and e-book formats.

Click on the link above to find out how to get your copy, and help save this poor poet from extinction.

Cheers

Steve 🙂

Fell For You. A poem.

I don’t know why I fell for this—
it was obvious you were oblivious,
and my dreams were cloaked
in pointlessness.

I don’t know why you caught my eye,
why I invested all my precious time
creating a melodious portfolio,
that you alone inspired.

Who did I want you to be
when you looked on me so distantly,
you were just a narcissistic,
attention-seeking tragedy.

You didn’t realise the truth:
we were meant to be as one, you see,
and be like living poetry.

But, then again, you never knew.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Reach. A poem.

I reach
And ellipses of time
and motion
Quixotic
Remote-controlled emotion
The loving
contentment
of the
discontented
Repeated over and over
Masticated and
Manipulated
in my head
Like daffodil moments
and chloroformed thoughts
Venting in subspace
A dream prison
Of complexity
and indecision
From finish to start
and ending with
a question:
Where
Are
You
And
Why
Are
We
Apart?

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.
Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

The Pantomime. A poem.

The tears keep me awake at

night;

they burn my eyes and ducts,
sodden flames licking,
smoke broiling,
consuming the room of my

head

until I’m fit to choke
on all the pointless

condescension,

spluttering, unkempt,
raw and misbegotten.

Soaked in a pantomime
of longing and rejection
until the show is

over.

Those tears remain,
salty dew trails
that scar my cheeks,
a tattooed reminder that

never

leaves my side.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Quake. A poem.

I have spoken long with you
so many, many times,
each airy conversation
measuring low on a Richter scale
that never rises much
beyond the surface—

no evidence of my success
just artful whimsy
it never shakes your earth.

Just once I’d have you see beyond
the artifice I’ve set in place,
to the real, the bold, the dreams,
the grace—
let it grind tectonically
and crumble these placid walls
to reveal what’s behind the facade.
To be a quake worth waiting for.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Intoxicated. A poem.

I was so into you—
every thought, every move,
was a riot of ecstasy
that shook me to my core.

More than destiny,
more than waking dreams
or midnight fantasies.
You were the bottle
and I was the alcoholic
reaching for just one more drink;
just a crazy intoxicant,
a fevered dream
that burned me up,
like a tenement fire
in a city-lost soul.

But like every addict
I had to come back down.
And when I finally touched ground,
shivering and drenched,
the cold light of day
reflected in my pain,
I realised the time had come
to give up the drink
and become a better whole.

And you?
I guess you became
someone else’s need,
someone else’s game.

Someone else to blame.

The All or the Nothing

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first book, available at most online book sellers in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Plague. A poem.

Why do you still plague me, so?
To inhabit me like a parasite,
gouging out my pale insides?
Churning up my hopeless dreams
like milk into aromatic cheese,
to accompany sides and crackers,
all the pieces left of me.

I tried to clear you out,
to tear up those thoughts
of you that lingered in
the shadow of my doubt.

But you are a constant here:
no razor can cut you free,
no serpentine threat can take
you away, as far as I can see.
I suppose that I am stuck with you,
like a whittling scar, or cancer tumour,
to eat me up in my pretence,
to despoil my thoughts
while I am lost in bitterness.

Your brilliance, it seems, forever blinds,
through my mind’s venetians,
you will forever shine.
I’ll long for you and wait for you
and die for you, as I always do.

A constant plague in my infected soul,
a longing and a long-lost goal.

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.

Fumes of You. A poem.

Your scent was different,
lingering in my nostrils,
a whiff of nostalgic free fall
and extra sensory motion.
The fumes of you twisted
around me and consumed
every pore and fibre
of my unwholesome being.
Should I have let that smell
overwhelm me as it did before
when I threw subtle caution
to the heedless wind?
Then you were gone
and the flames and fumes
died, as they always did.
All that was left, the memory
of your trackless bouquet.

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.

Vagrant Heart. A poem.

And now every time I pass by you,
I remember when you were my muse.
My inspiration, a living rhyme
to hang my aching heart, in time.

          (I could and did, ‘til I was blue,
          write many volumes, just for you.
          But you never read and never knew,
          enigmas all and yet so full.)

Words flowed like the torrential rain,
now they flow right down the drain,
the endless drain out to the sea,
where tender mercies float and dream.
I’ll never know if you ever wondered,
guessed, assumed, or maybe stumbled,
upon the musings of my heart
disguised as metaphor in part.
I guess I was the greatest fool
for thinking you could love me, too.
I guess my words were wasted art,
the rantings of a vagrant heart.

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.

 

The Cycle. A poem.

Strangers, friends, lovers,
then strangers again.
Lovers and strangers,
but no longer friends.

It seems it’s a cycle
we’re doomed to repeat.
A cycle of madness,
one we just can’t escape.
No matter how we try
to break the cycle each time,
we always end up
back at the start of the line:

strangers, friends, lovers,
then strangers again.
Lovers and strangers,
but no longer friends.

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.

The Difference. A poem.

Not the same,
not the way it was before,
even though it was nothing less
and nothing more,
it’s not the same.

Just a shame
it’s not like it was before,
even though it could never be,
of that I’m sure.
Such a shame.

No one to blame,
and neither here nor there
or anything in between, you see,
of that I am aware.
Nothing left to say.

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.

Save the Poet!

via Save the Poet!

The All or the Nothing is my e-book of poetry. Click on the link above to find where you can download it.

For poetry lovers and endangered poets everywhere!

Cheers

Steve 🙂

Meteor. A poem.

You are the meteor
slicing my heavens
to the quick,
scorching my atmosphere
without regret.

And when you hit my ground
cleaving my earthy heart and
spreading its detritus
far and wide,
I’ll willingly accept your carnage
with arms as wide
as oceans.

Because when we are one,
the strata
and fossil record
will tell our story
forevermore.

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

Signal Fire. A poem.

This indolence tosses me
like autumn leaves,
mere whispers in the breeze.
Corkscrewing ever round,
intoxicated by thoughts
that reminisce amongst
far flung ports-of-call.

These empty seas would remit me
unto an isle,
stark, sun-bleached and worn,
smoothed by time and vapid waters.
From here I could scrutinise
the present and the past,
incongruent exhortations
unworthy, ad hoc companions
in perpetuum.

The thought of rescue lies
far beyond these nascent incubi,
continually beseeching me
from beyond the far horizon.
Perhaps I will light a signal fire,
a plethoric plume
to engulf this loneliness
and bring you to my shore.

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

Horizon. A poem.

In the setting sun,
a hazy miasma of watercolours spilled,
an adventitious mix
of variegated textures and tones.

With every highlight
and every shifting coruscation,
I think of you.
This miracle horizon cannot compare.

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

Believe in Love. A poem.

Believe in love.

Believe so ardently that your heart
burns from the pain of longing, loss
and subtle expectation,
a flame that reduces you
to dying embers
at the thought of that special other.

This aching lamentation
is for the cold shouldered,
the one who got away,
the one who stole your anxious soul.

Explore your separate paths,
you forlorn and weary travellers
and perhaps you will find each other,
somewhere on the periphery
of a merged existence.

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

Juncture. A poem.

At this juncture,
decisions made:
A change of season,
a chance parade.

At this juncture
of no return,
no looking back
at bridges burned.

At this juncture,
we’re laid to rest
in hallowed ground,
without contest.

At this juncture,
the time has come
to decide our futures
‘til time’s undone.

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

Unknown. A poem.

She does not and will never know me.
She will never read between my lines.
She will never walk the halls of my history.
She will never cry a tear for me.

But I have known her.
In the briefest of shimmering moments,
caught between copious minutes
of self-involved convolution,
in dreams, memories
and facile fantasy;
I have known her well.

How I wish she would know me,
would read between these devoted lines,
create a dutiful shared history
and cry winsome tears of joy with me.

And that I would not remain unknown.

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

Tinder Time. A poem.

Flick left, swipe right.
A pallid, Saturday night
police line up of unambiguity,
measured by nervous
fingertip and amygdala.
A feature-filled array
of fatuous smiles
and narcissistic natures,
whereby motherly and mad
skip hand-in-hand with the
otherworldly and overwrought.
Consider this winsome
wheel of fortune,
spinning around and around
but never coming back to the one
I truly want
and can’t live without.

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

Brief. A poem.

The briefest of moments
to us, passed between,
and I was, for the briefest time,
momentarily happy.

I crave the briefest moment
to spend with you again.
For in that fragile moment,
I am, forever, briefly sane.

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

Artifice of Love. A poem.

I wish she would read
this artifice of love
and know my asinine attempt
to swim to her waters
‘festina lente’,
my yearning to sweep
her off her feet
and cushion her
with desirous imposition,
is meant solely
to glorify her absolute
magnificence.

Perhaps, one day,
my muse of truth
will read and understand
that everything I write
is for her alone,
and that my need to
rest in her arms
is beyond all measure.

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

Indifference. A poem.

Every indifferent look
is broken glass,
slicing my already
severed heart.

Your indifference,
(bricks laid by me),
is the wall separating
our dual Berlins.

Your indifference
is the pendulum
that crushes me whole:
nothing left
and nothing right.

Every indifferent look
leaves me lost inside
and needing so much
more in life.

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

Ghostly. A poem.

Am I a ghost to you,
incorporeal as mist,
drifting on the fulsome breeze,
far beyond your view?

What would it take
to anneal this brume,
a somatic conversion
to make me real?

Your fugue is my grave;
Here I will linger on
until I fade completely
from your uncaring heart.

If you liked that, then you’ll love the poems in my first book The All or the Nothing! And at just $5.99 for 62 poems, that’s less than 10 cents a poem!
To find out how to get a copy, click here.
Support starving poets everywhere!

Stuffing. A poem.

The stuff of yearning dreams
and wanton, empty years,
stuffed to the seams,
stuffed with regret.

How much more stuffing
could this vagrant heart beget,
stuffed full to bursting,
stuffed with loneliness.

If you liked that, then you’ll love the poems in my first book The All or the Nothing! And at just $5.99 for 62 poems, that’s less than 10 cents a poem!
To find out how to get a copy, click here.
Support starving poets everywhere!

The Timely Fool. A poem.

Long years of suffering,
so tinged with hope and fear.
I have watched you from afar,
but outstayed my welcome, here.
Now, your door has shut so tight
and my path to you is blocked.
Now, I’m back to wandering,
to the relentless ticks of clocks.

I wish that you could sight me, here,
from your tower, oh so tall.
But I am just a speck to you,
a distant, lonely thrall.
As I wonder through this wilderness,
my thoughts belong to you,
and as days turn into nights, adieu,
I’m your lost and timely fool.

If you liked that, then you’ll love the poems in my first book The All or the Nothing! And at just $5.99 for 62 poems, that’s less than 10 cents a poem!
To find out how to get a copy, click here.
Support starving poets everywhere!

Lottery. A poem.

These dubious numbers
will not fall in line for me.
Indeed, more’s the fool;
those digits that summon
up every heavenly aspect of you.

A token parody
of a prodigious, passionate girl.
Just numbers spinning
in my head and heart,
my lottery, my heady whirl.

These fallow yearnings,
have fallen now, far from grace.
My mad desire to win your
succulent mind and soul
like all things, is lost, again.

Lost, my heart disgraced.

If you liked that, then you’ll love the poems in my first book The All or the Nothing! And at just $5.99 for 62 poems, that’s less than 10 cents a poem!
To find out how to get a copy, click here.
Support starving poets everywhere!

Stair. A poem.

We stopped upon the stair,
our furtive conversation
like a tender questionnaire.
She smiled and talked and stared
and in the animation of her lips
and smile and hair,
I found a love that swelled
long after she had left me there.
And that fire that burned in me,
as I yearned to breathe her air,
consumed me from within,
because she was, oh, so unaware.
And so I dream and often think of her;
and perhaps one day, she’ll care,
and perhaps one day she’ll feel for me
the way that I have dared.

The All or the Nothing is my first book of poetry, and at just $5.99 for 62 poems, that’s less than 10 cents a poem! To find out how to get a copy, click here.
Support starving poets everywhere!

Mirrored. A poem.

I mirrored you subconsciously,
perhaps you noticed you in me.
You mirrored me subconsciously,
perhaps I noticed, but didn’t see.

Neither mirror could reveal
beyond the veil, our hesitancy.
Neither mirror would let us read
of love, of fate, of destiny.

If you liked that, then you’ll love the poems in my first book
The All or the Nothing!

And at just $5.99 for 62 poems, that’s
less than 10 cents a poem!
To find out how to get a copy, click here.

Support starving poets everywhere!

The Truth. A poem.

What would I do
if you belonged to another?
No hanging tree exists
that could free my heart
from your beloved tether.
Would I drown myself
in the incumbent surf,
or throw myself
from the weary heights,
dash all my hopes and dreams
with vertigo and a somnolent end?
Why am I frozen here,
the icy curlicues surrounding me
and choking by degrees
until I can move no more?
Speak to me, and I will answer
truthfully.

The All or the Nothing is my first book of poetry, and at just $5.99 for 62 poems, that’s less than 10 cents a poem! To find out how to get a copy, click here.
Support starving poets everywhere!

Wings. A poem.

You endow me with gossamer wings,
a loving benefaction granted;
a gift that encapsulates and enables
flight to peregrine places
uncharted and exotic.

But with so many destinations
and arterial paths and so
many cloudy possibilities,
only one makes any sense:
the one that leads directly
and succinctly to you.

The All or the Nothing is my first book of poetry, and if you like what you’ve been reading then you’ll love it! To find out how to get a copy, click here.
Support starving poets everywhere!

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