I called you silly names
to try to catch your eye
and played your silly games
while thinking myself sly.
I used to snap your bra
just to watch you jump
while the things in you I saw
made me swallow back a lump.
I carried all your books
to prove that I was strong
and complimented your looks
because I wanted to belong.
Now looking back, it’s plain to see
all the changes that you made in me.
I brought you some fresh flowers
to try and make you smile
but you made me wait for hours
and they wilted meanwhile.
I took you out to supper
and we sat out on the deck.
You ordered the lobster
and stiffed me with the check.
I asked you to the theater
and paid the way for you
then waited by the greeter
because I couldn’t pay for two.
And watched you walk out hand-in-hand
at the side of another man.
One day I made a pact
with a devil, strong and stout:
I would get the strength I lacked
and it would never be cast out.
Years later came a man
who tried to drive it away.
But I gave him a reprimand
and told him it could stay.
Because I knew that it would fade
when I was loved inside and out –
a statement which made
it rise up and shout:
“But you won’t love me ‘cause I’m special – I’ll just be the same
as all the other people who are calling out your name!”
Along the twisting trails
by the rivers and the streams
and on the rusty rails
under the bright sunbeams.
Traveling by the tiny shoots
and through rustling meadows
and over exposed roots
under forest shadows.
All that’s surrounding me
takes my breath away.
This natural beauty
holds me in its sway.
And I’m struck by all the grace
lingering in this verdant place.
Many a shifty shade
drifts about unseen
in spectral promenade
in the spaces in between.
Hiding in the corner
and in between the walls
and behind all the furniture
and down the empty halls.
But if you’re idly dozing,
you may get quite the fright
of such a spirit posing
seemingly in plain sight.
And though you try best as you can
you may not get to sleep again…
I’m struggling ‘gainst the call
of my soft and comfy bed.
I’m giving it my all
to stay up late instead.
For it’s only at these times
that I really hit my stride
and mark all the extra chimes
with a slight swelling of pride.
But time’s heavy, leaden hand
keeps knocking me to the floor
and though I try to stand
I just can’t take it anymore.
So I accept my defeat
as I crawl between the sheets.
I’m back out on the road
as the day comes to a close
on the way to my abode
as the sky opens like a rose.
Now that the day is done
I can put my mind at ease.
Beholden to no one –
I can do as I please.
So maybe after dinner,
I’ll go out on the town
and feel just like a winner
while I’m traveling around.
This could be one hell of a night
under the moon, the starts, and the neon lights.
As time keeps creeping by,
a languid tick and tock,
from the corner of my eye
I keep watch upon the clock.
Why is it that midday,
though frantically sought,
so quickly slips away
as soon as it is caught?
I wish I had the might
to hold the moment still
like a flower balanced right
upon the windowsill.
But, alas, it must give way
to the long, lingering rest of the day.
Shifting
underneath my sheets.
Lifting
myself up in defeat.
Perusing
the night and morning news.
Choosing
an outfit and some shoes.
Making
my usual breakfast.
Taking
my shower super fast.
There aren’t enough hours in the morn
to leave me feeling anything but worn.
Now it’s no secret Nation;
there’s much that I hold dear
including the conflagration
that’s a little thing called “Fear”.
Though there’s some liberal ne’er-do-wells
who just can’t be content
with how well fear-mongering sells
and they’re asking us to relent.
But I’ve got the inside word
on what is really going on
and I want it to be heard
before we’re too far gone.
I’ve always been a man who’s listened to his gut
and right now it says, “Steven, you better watch your butt.”
A (wise) man of two faces 