Blue Sky

When you fall
and all you can see
is the blue sky.
And you wonder
became of the ground.
Then you know
the end
will always come around
cause everyone
always dreams
about the blue sky.




And in the end
the child was dead
as angels fell to dust.
to see the sun
as blood began to rust.
Take this thought
and hold it still
and I will dwell with thee
wanting not
for better things
for all you were resides in me.

I feel that prick
of memory
the foulest I’ve ever known.
A little spur,
a little rub,
for sins I now atone.
As I go back
to what I was
in sweeter times than these,
tasting rinds
of rotted fruit
that smell of death and sweet release.

I’ve found that painful
part of me
that hurtful poisoned well
and purge it from
its rotten core
of constant misery.
Striving for
a life of light
and everlasting bliss,
hold me now
forever girl
and give me one last kiss.



is just another word for darkness
and I can taste its bitterness
on my tongue.
Sitting alone
on a Sunday afternoon
as trees whisper words i can no longer hear,
I hear and feel their leaves
brushing painful memories
of hopes and dreams i can no longer see.
Life slips away as i fall
into the black..
a familiar place
comforting yet cold.
Darkness is just another word for
And I have learned to see in the dark.


With memories as thin
as my grasp on life,
I struggle to recall
those things that made me.

Dimly glimpsed scenes from a past
broken into pieces
by neglect and deceit,
have left me to drift alone,

no connection , no return
to all I once knew.
I’ve lost the string
that leads back to me.

Resolution Blues

Still looking for that musical accompaniment…

Off The Mat

If I could reach up and
keep the world held still,
I’d go back three days
with a two dollar bill.
Then I’d buy myself some time
to take a little rest
from all of this coincidence
and Mr. Barlow’s test.

If you could only look inside
your organ grinder self,
you would put your monkey down
and set him on a shelf.
Happiness is what you find
when you don’t have the time
for arguments and petty thieves
who’ve taken your last dime.

Don’t just walk on past me now
in your twenty dollar shoes;
take a chance and break the bank
there’s nothing left to lose.
You can see what’s left to find
inside your heart of stone
or cough it up and spit it out;
cause you don’t need that bone

stuck right down inside your throat
for all the world to see.
You don’t think it’s…

View original post 113 more words

Coming Home

I’m coming home.
My path has been so long
and my soul is so worn
I can barely feel the ground beneath my feet.
The sickness I feel is only matched
by the loneliness that never leaves
and the constant pain every day.
Time to lay this body down
and fly…

© 2016 Stephen Boothe 

And the Music Plays On

lonely on a sunday morning
as the coffee stains my mind
with memories of cantalope rind
and my fathers steady hand

tasting bitter dregs
as they wash across my thoughts
carrying all ive lost
in all this time

someone save me please
has always been my cry
just once… before i die
and the music plays on

© 2016 Stephen Boothe


I have seen further than any man
should ever see.
A common thread, a common me.
Love has always been the thing that
keeps me in,
drives my world and makes me
just a little insane.
You know I thought I found the one..
you know..that one
and I would have been content
to live with all that I could see.
But really when it it comes down
to it,
there’s really no choice, is there?

I had a dream as I was watching
a favorite scene.
Only this was what would
eventually be.
I realized that I was not yet done.
No this was what would be.
There would come a beauty
into my life.
A place with light.
And it would show me
all I had ever wanted.
All I had needed.

How long do we go on?
How long do we wait?
For eternity? For love?
How long?
We wait forever.

© 2015 Stephen Boothe


Sunshine can’t stop
but I don’t really mind,
cause everything always seems
the same
when you’re frozen
in the same frame of time
and space and you’ve always been
the same.

© 2015 Stephen Boothe


I’ve realized
that it’s only a matter of time
until I burn down
the whole fucking world,
at least the part I inhabit,
because that’s all
that really matters anyway,
isn’t it?

© 2015 Stephen Boothe

%d bloggers like this: