Poetry from Stephen Williams


How could we
not see

the coming
beast riding

birth fed
by our disbelief

dripping saliva
growing mud mountains

sick and strong
skyscraper tall

stomping on
never growing up
to see the sea and sky
and flowering fields
of their own.


Kiss her
on her cheek
and her bare back
with scars
from an enemy
before our marriage

and then the facts come out
and our hunt begins
for recompense and a reckoning
that will never be fully completed

for we and our parents
never believed
such horrors could happen
in the land we love.

If I Was Young I Would Confess

Eating my beans and burgers
a glow screen in each palm

my ears tagged with everything I like
old tunes and worldly wrecks

I dance in the morning
not knowing the night

ink in all the right places
my skin a smear of compliments

I don't have to brag
I'm a loser uncaring

A great liar until I try to sleep at night.


And the night takes me down
to the river of the dump

a stink lake 
my cemetery sideline

I'm too young to die
still owing my elders

looking up snarling to myself
blaming the now times

confusion the chief
and sneaky thief

I'm a pawn with a chain
around my jeans

heavy knuckles
from too many fights

leave me alone
and let me write my last words

stripping to point
at the moon of doom.

The Right Course

I'm too old to be young
writing like a fool thinking he's cool

reading the Good Book
changing too slow

but on the right course
asking for forgiveness

from all my friends and those I meet.

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