Tag Archives: Poetry

Darkness

Emptiness
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
emptyness.
And I have learned to see in the dark.


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


Same

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


Today

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


I Remember

I remember days
when the air was so thick with lies and emotion
that it was hard to breathe
much less think.

Those were the days of summer nights
when rubber bands could never break
less the world come crashing down
and unknown disasters would annihilate me.

Those were the days of winter cold
and how the first heartbreak cracked like ice.
I just knew I would die.

Those were the days of visions,
artificial or otherwise.
It’s so easy to lose track
when you have no mind.

Those were the days of love,
as best I could perceive.
A ghost, an imperfect shadow
of what could possibly be.

Those were the days of dreams;
so elusive, so enticing.
Now realized and never lost.

we live for eternity.

© 2015 Stephen Boothe


Illustrated Poetry

I found myself at the beginning,
a zenith if you will,
and knew that the party had just started.
A prevernal Psalm,
a hymn to the rose and the cross
had carried me to faraway dreams
and afternoon places.
Shal I sing you a sonnet?
Poetry in motion
born on midsummers wings,
fly, my pretties, fly.
And we will love
and we will hate
as we look beyond the fog
of symbolic relationships
that cast shadows over time
but carry quiet joy.
For there is a time to plant
and a time to sow
and all the colors of the rainbow
are ours
if only we see.

© 2015 Stephen Boothe


Forever Man

I want to be your forever man
not just an afterthought
or an option
or a pleasant way to pass the time

I dont want to be
just some guy that sends you flowers
or buys you pizza
or someone you pass by as you go through life

I want to be the one
your bones ache for
the one your skin hungers for
the one that creeps into your thoughts late at night

i want to be your forever man
the one you’ll always believe in

i want to be your forever man

© 2015 Stephen Boothe


Truth 

I can do this alone
repeating to myself
because I know it’s true

But i dont want to
and thats the truth

you can do this
all by yourself
but what about us
What about us

I want us
and thats the truth

If I must
I will go and stay
in my own space

But i dont want to
and thats the truth

How far I’ve come
to live my life
in a place
I want to share

How easy to go
and be alone

But I dont want to
and thats the truth

And it’s the only
truth I have

© 2015 Stephen Boothe


Japanese Girl

Walking down that dirty street so long,
I’d lost the taste for life,
drinking all those dreams so wrong.

Then I met that Japanese girl…
She took me for a ride
then threw me right out.

I think I must have been a ghost
drifting on dust,
wine, weed, and pills,

just living in my shoes
and saying all those things
I used to say.

Then I dreamt of that Japanese girl
thinking maybe,
just maybe,

I could walk down that street once more.
I don’t know…
am I still alive?

Well I don’t know if I’m sane
or if this is really all I am
or all I’ve become.

But still I dream of that Japanese girl
and wonder…
wonder why.

© 2015 Stephen Boothe


Winter

I saw a black blue sky;
one like I’d never seen before,
with reflections of all
the thoughts
I had ever known;
sheltered and shaded
by fast and fleeting
glimpses
of now and then.
I know there is
no past
just as there is
no future.
And there’s the thing
that binds.
It keeps me taut
with unrealized dreams
of all I could have
ever been
or all I could hope to live for
and know.

© 2015 Stephen Boothe


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