Plundered. A poem.
Plundered heart Pillaged and torn Barbarous thoughts Have had their way Their longships Have left my shores And I am left Humiliated Ashamed Awaiting their return Continue reading Plundered. A poem.
Tag: Writing
Three Years Later…
So, here I am, three years after the most harrowing time of my life and everything is pretty much still the same. I’m not any closer to finding a real purpose. I still have no love in my life. I’m still socially isolated. I still have no idea what I’m doing (my prayers sound like they’re on constant replay). I still have nothing to look forward to. I still suffer from anxiety and depression (although I can walk around now without fear of the walls closing in, so that’s something), I still have no work opportunities, I’m still pretending to … Continue reading Three Years Later…
Pictures. A poem.
Pictures postedA lifetime in pixelsStolen by FacebookTumblr and InstagramSocial media vacuumsConsuming memoriesThat once were yoursCopywritten and storedLocked away foreverBy corporate greedWith no return Continue reading Pictures. A poem.
The Real News. A short tale.
Here’s a post I did for a recent uni course. The course is over so I can post it now. The idea was to take a news story and extrapolate what it was about. A man attacked a woman … Continue reading The Real News. A short tale.
Starving Man. A poem.
I am a starving manHungry for love and lifeIntentionally bulimicMy stomach groansReminder of my hunger strikeSurrounded by the feastConfounded by the choiceArms too weak to takeEyes too dim to seeLips parched and belly swollenThe starving man stumbles onHungry for love Continue reading Starving Man. A poem.
Moment. A poem.
One momentWith youIs likeA lifetimeOf constantMysteries and surprisesAnd far too goodTo be true Continue reading Moment. A poem.
Underground. A poem.
Bury my heartDeep undergroundBury my soulWhere it can't be foundBury my headFull of anxietyBury me wholeSo absolutelyAnd here in the dirtI will resideHere in the dirtWith worms at my sideTo eat up my heartAnd to eat up my soulTo consume me aliveAnd so achieve your goal Continue reading Underground. A poem.
Amongst the Ashes. A poem.
Some daysI want to open my wristsAnd let them breath in reverseTake the irony of my existencePaint it in the colourOf lonelinessEmptinessHopelessnessAnd watch it flowSlowlySurelySluggishlyDown the porcelain sinkThat holds all my pointless dreamsAnd wash them awayMaybe thenI'll find sweet reliefAmongst the ashes Choose life. Every time. Don't give in to suicide. Life is too precious to waste. Steve Continue reading Amongst the Ashes. A poem.
Unrequited. A poem redux.
https://stevestillstanding.com/2017/02/19/unrequited-a-poem/ This is the second poem I ever posted. I’m feeling nostalgic! Steve 🙂 Continue reading Unrequited. A poem redux.
Bomb. A poem.
I sabotage myselfEvery time you're in the roomAn unexploded bombIn my mouthJust waitingTo detonateAnd kill any chanceOf being with you Continue reading Bomb. A poem.
Womb. A poem redux.
https://stevestillstanding.com/2017/02/22/womb-a-poem/ One of my earlier poems. Hope you like it. 🙂 Continue reading Womb. A poem redux.
SMS. A poem.
TextingYour lifelineAn SMS (SOS)To the worldSo much to tellBut so little to sayBRBROFL Continue reading SMS. A poem.
The Light in Your Eyes. A poem.
I saw the light in your eyesBurn bright then fade awayIt was your last and final callBefore approaching Heaven's Gate I smelt your very last breathFelt your body as it slackedIt was holding you in my armsThat I finally faced … Continue reading The Light in Your Eyes. A poem.
Torch. A poem.
Always in my thoughtsBut where is she now?Laughing with friendsSharing a joke and a smileAnd I am the furthest I've ever been from her sideThat a torch should burn so bright But too far to be seen is a tragedyMy isolation is self-imposedAs it will always be Continue reading Torch. A poem.
The Sale. Part 12.
My hands were in the air and so was the rock-solid Maglite flashlight. Silas was watching the Mexican standoff in the store room where crazy woman Junifer had confronted Aisha. I threw the torch as hard as I could. It … Continue reading The Sale. Part 12.
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