Welcome To
Poetry By
Pleasantries
when it's right both know
things just seem to flow
smiles are forthright and genuine
all who come in contact see your glow
we must have forgot along the way
that love can hurt you someday
it seems not to be important now
it seems someone showed us how
it must have been the ones before
who showed us what we didn't want
who made it pleasant to walk out that door
never to return forever more
or could it possibly be we fit
like two peas in a pod, yeah that's it
they couldn't be you to me
no matter which direction they tried to sit
words cannot express the gattitude
or explain the change in attitude
for the love shared between us in multitude
and you haven't even baked me cookies yet!
copyright© 1999 by Steven Stafford
Ice Castles
Centuries passed all the while
Fortress built pouring water
Frozen to be thawed on that day
The king of the castle is I
Said he
Now listen to this for every tile
placed in place fortified by lies
lying neatly behind is passion
found neatly beneath the walls
did he
Come along fair maiden
with frozen torche of blue flames
as the walls came melting down
draining into her lagoon
did she
That crystal clear abyss
where dolphins play games
has become my retreat
as we get lost in a kiss
did we
Slip into the night
never to return
atlantis has dissapeared
love has taken flight
copyright© 1999 by Steven Stafford
A Hopeful Peice
periods of time shared
from this to another
hindering space challenging
the dread of closeness
to lose that individuality
fashioned and functioned
formed not of conforming to
falling apart dripping from eye
and onto the paper with pen
must it disentigrate again?
slip away from and reshape
to be conformed to the one
who resembles every bit of
love's mystery bound by
three words faltered jaded
standing under the bridge
awaiting that one
sweet perfect woman
making sense out of my land
of confusion
poised peering into my soul
through windows on display
and hearts on sleeves
closing my eye
taking penny from pocket
tossing it into the creek
hopeful wish of return to
that one I've been hunting for
she is here even though I wish
watching me from behind a tree
wishing on a penny
copyright© 1999 by Steven Stafford
A Conjured Bruised Life Span
A day falls into the picture
But is there all along
Even while seen in dark and light
Wake up to sleep and make it night
Poised for a senseless in and out
For situations cause pain
Only to the squeamish
Soul bruised all life long
Pointing in the pain’s preset destination
So it is as it always was
Those who pass
Must go through the tiny hole
Where pain is a life long accomplishment
Something that we hold dear to us
And speak of regularly
Our treasures are the muck
While the silver lining is down looked
Shining only to the plus signs
The marked ones pet their wounds
Point to the dead and dying and raise a thumb
Live and let live
Die and let be
Choosing a path for a lifelong pain pleasure paradigm
Is made at birth when we know not of this life
Blame placed for a decision made
During an unknowing stage
Cast your death on those who make it
Cast your life on those who break it
But please don’t involve me in your decisions
Because I see you as you are
Before your decision
Still making decisions
Without all the facts
A smile is in order for those of us who know not
And choose not to know
But know enough to live
A Do Run Run
Say this be the nineties
End of millenium
Also a new beginning
Counting days makes em shiver
A finger is placed on the trigger
Misplaced blame be pointed
Directed at you
As you direct it at them
Try and Buy
The way out of this one
Political warfare
Crashing finances breeding
Careless arm sales during an
Economical self made tragedy
Many and more mouths to feed
Puter problems coming
At the big 00
Those who don’t know better
Ask someone
The automated farmers are behind
Starvation, widespread prostitution,
A global virus shuts down
Starts at lesser
Spreads to prolific
Equality is achieved
Not an ideal equality
Mass hysteria mixed with panic
Tragic
Money coming out of banks
And into the mattress
Record sales down
Images fade to a bad joke
No money for toothpaste
Or deodorant
We must buy eggs
And tomatoes
Blended Sweet Obvious
Twisted to be unraveled
Heart shaped kisses blow through the air
Somebody told me it would happen
On a day when my eyes be blind
On a dreary year when my heart gave sight
And voice muttering bandages I shed
Instantly fixing my tetherball heart
What did I hear as she least expected to
But the sweet words of I and love and you
Not at all am I ready
Or not here she comes
What ever have me
Be short of the love
Trapped in my ball on a string
Screaming unheard straining to hear it sing
Silent screams beneath the surface
Destined to be with for an ever
Not in the slightest bit clever
True confessions of this beaten man
Beaten into scrambled emotions
But served up on a plate right next to
The buttered up toast
To the woman I love the most
Be with
Come with
Stay with
Love me too.
obviously
Horridly Frightened Placid Melodies
Someone tries to remind me of which way I came
For death comes quickly in all due time
Remembering that which makes me
Harps on my soul
Forever more
Not a form of escaping for god sake
Running from the day is just not my style
The moderate foes trample on my bedroom window
As pouring mental tragedies become a chore
Forever more
I spoke a yule time melody
To bring you out of your hole
You spit in my face in spite of it
Helps me to be liberated
Forever more
To whom it may confuse
And torture of its depth
For you may have not reached that summit
Or rode that airplane yet
Overshadowing you’re at completely
Forever more
I do not claim the mental giant
Nor is it a suit I wear with pride
Try to decipher the wealth it possesses
As I continue to glide
Forever more
Me conform to you
Now that is never to be
Me entertain the thought of less
Why be yesterday if I can see
All I am is lonely be
Singing a horribly frightened placid melody
Man of Centuries
Sharp in his intent
Full of repent
Deep with purpose
Bordering on the morose
Time has beaten his childhood
Weathered his innocence
Callused his presence
Changed his mood
Upright in posture
Upright in attitude
Swelling with gratitude
Blistered with no cure
The past makes us who we are
But strips us of who we were
Stacking to find it might fall
All that is left is a scar
Night becomes an endless day
All that was is now to be
For history repeats itself in memories
Mistakes are welcomed to leave but choose to stay
From one bed to another
And back to the one of a pincushion
For once in pain, always in pain
Welcomed is that of the familiar
What we need is shunned
What we want is gunned
As if a suicide bullet was fired
The calming of what is admired
We always want what we cannot have
For some reason, we aren’t for it
The forbidden fruit tastes sweet
But rots the stomach like spoiled meat
Now I just watch and laugh
I see them making that same mistake
I welcome the thought of that
To see someone go through my belly ache
And always remember the lesson I learned
Could only be learned had I jumped in the lake
More Than I Care To Give
Questions pour from windows
Peering from dark layers
Densely growing drawing day near
Falter the day and age
Wrinkles clearing up rage
Growth direction toward death
Flowering children dance as if
Nothing is wrong
Step inside the glass menagerie
Where at first we peered
Go inside the bubble
To be trapped
The comfort of that gap
Between what works
And what we know to be
Seems to me
Exactly the unwanted
For unknown reasons
It is widely accepted
Mediocrity is the norm
Perfection is on ignore
Lifelessness becomes
Attractive
In the perpetual rat trap called
America
Simple Seduction
Baby take your clothes off
Stay a while with me
Work it mad joy with harmony
Lips touching and taking me
To a no where land
I want you baby come sit by me
Hold me tight while I resist you
Squeeze me and watch me kiss you
Just lay back and sink into the bed
While I strum your skin into a frenzy
You want me to take you now
And I resist your every wish
I know not to jump into things
Especially something so wet
I think I’ll stop in mid sentence
And not give you what you want
So you will want me even more
Go to sleep tonight with me on your mind
Maybe next time you will be the one seducing
Just lay there undone
And know that I want you just the same
As I refrain
Hot inferno pressure cooker romance
Here’s a rose and I’ll be out the door
With not even a thought of climax….
Until next time….maybe
Simple Temples
In a maze of silence, the master enters with elegance
Bringing all that was is and ever shall be
To slow the processes of being down to a halt
And bring the knowledge of all things to a manifestation
For once we were in a twisted existence that caused pain
But for the time being, we share the cleanliness that only the originator
Could dream of or materialize.
What can we expect from the future?
A master who must rule with an iron scepter is all I see.
Our beings deserve this discipline.
We ignore all that is pertinent.
We move in life without a purpose.
From the CEO to the street corner bum, all guilty.
Simple is the way of the cricket.
Yet that cricket is serving his purpose.
Man has brought himself from nothing to everything
And now must return to that nothing in order to be free
All that you see around you must dissolve and become less
Or all that is important consisting of the natural things
Will destroy it
Resistance is futile
Dematerialization is inevitable.
Subtle Differences
The journey began as it ended without guidance
All who made the trek drew to an immaculate prison
Those who were trapped in the guise of perfection’s teeth
Never let on to what makes it so
The ones of wise descent fled
From the conforming to be in the know
Tackling the challenge that ignorance poses is path of perfection
While the “perfect” who are born, falter into temptation
And stay in the path of death
Truly ignorant people run to knowledge
And look for guidance and integrity in a main man
See past the death that was immanent but became a passing fad
Through the dungeon and growing stronger to escape
Once out to drain the world of its complacency
Finally the horsemen ride on
Reeking havoc on the lacking of the fruition
Those who fear not are let alone
The second you flinch, is the second that you get caught up
Winding up with nothing but a fragile existence
Cluttered by the ever present horsemen
They cannot be denied
Everything they do is classified
For them to know and you to die by
Smoke On The Water...Deep Purple
Tempting Fortress
On lookout mountain, miniature trees may be redwoods
The ants who carry on their duties vanish from sight as
The greenery they must ravage stand still
Here or there a tree will move in the breeze
But the mountain stays in its place
From the one cell to the massive creations
It is possible to see a difference
On top where we like to peer, everything shrinks in comparison
You can climb to the top
You can dig into it
But will you move it
Get a mighty bulldozer
And try
Yet with faith we are to do
And yet understanding this concept
Can only be put into the basic
For it has a reaching affect
And general concepts like moving the mountain
Can be applied to everything
But I would rather look from a top
And see the shapes
The wonder and splendor of the canvas
Of Earth painted by a great big nothing
That is the one who we cannot see
For he is bigger than the mountain
Toot Your Horn
Plucking your innocence from the vine
The camera focused on that which perverted
All that was sacred
All that was real
All that had substance
Coated our hearts with steel
Pushing in a motion of melody to speed
The danger lurking behind the scene
Moved us to be a repulsive breed
Infinitely savage
Infinitely strange
Infinitely twisted
Infinitely deranged
I am not your savior
I’m not the one
I don’t see our hero around
He might be hiding in the bushes
Not making a sound
Not waiting for his grand entrance
Not helping the lost be found
Not shattering the ignorance
For his name sake
We must have made a mistake along the way
For there is not to be a brighter day
I see the end coming near
All the ignorant are showing their fear
With bombing and rumors of wars
Looting and rioting
Sprinkled with a few natural disasters
This is turning out to be quite a last supper
Copyright 1998 By Steven Stafford
