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There sits the crowd, muted and silent

as the players dance around on the sand.

Hollering words, back and forth, to incite.. As man, woman, daughter and son

become involved. A narrative beholden of a hundred

thousand popular tales told to a million tired children lain in there beds.


They, us, them… We… have seen it, heard it, watched it,

been it… A million times before.

But what makes this spectacle unique, is that it has

over what has been entire festival,

bringing entertainment to all those within travelling distance….

It’s you and I.


Fighting stances, weapons in hand… We circle.

Wary, and frightened of that knowledge we possess of each other.

Having both been hurt in previous rounds, both been exposed for transparency…

We dodge, feint and apply experience,


And in doing so, the crowd begins to become involved.

Knowing our story. Thrown at them by an MC behind his mic.

Is it merely my evil versus your good?

Or is it your assertion my defeat will usher in a stronger warrior to be more of a challenge…?


Sword and shield are wielded, but merely questions and metaphors on the sand of virtuality.

In the end your blade rendered me unable, or perhaps more accurately,

unwilling to fight.


I won’t argue and say you were wrong in announcing I was beneath you,

that my skill and desire could never have earnt your respect.


I’ll just rub the tips of my fingers against the scars, knowing how lucky I was

to not have you simply end it for me there and then.


Steve B 06/18


Smells Like Teen Spirit

He never spoke in riddles, nor affected some strange accent

to hide his emotions or deflect from what actually mattered.

His truth wasn’t in being what she needed him to be

but in loving her for who she was.

How hard is it to expect the same in return?

Too hard, apparently.


There’s a sincerity in choosing to walk away when things aren’t what you expect,

But there’s a cowardice in choosing to walk away when things aren’t easy.


Therein lies the basic struggle. The balance.

Is a relationship transparent, or opaque?

Do we perpetually fight to get the answer we want? Or do we ask, listen, and accept the answer we get?


I loved you…. And, so many years later still do.

We go through life, loss, the up’s and downs. We develop an unwritten checklist of what we know

and believe matters to us.

This list is subconscious, applicable to every scenario we might encounter. Extrapolated from experience

to shield us from sadness, pain and above all… Fear.

From a visit to a restaurant, where there’s a palpable anticipation of a dish we really, really want….

And then find they’re out of the primary ingredient, and ask us to choose an alternative from the menu.


OK, that’s a relatively subdued example, and yes… I could sit here and offer up a severely aggressive example,

but I won’t, because the principle remains.

The mental process, how we immediately react, is exactly the same.


So, what am I really talking about, what is it that my prose wants to infer?


Ah, he cried! She should already understand, she reads between the lines, she’s a psychologist….


But she’s also as small, afraid and weak as the most broken patient she’s sat down with and applied her intellegentsia witchcraft to.

She applied it to me as well, an was afraid when I challenged it.

So, it came down to what was easy, coddled inside an argument she knew I couldn’t respond to.

She moved on, literally, despite saying she couldn’t ‘move’ herself to be closer to me.


A denial, as Kurt Cobain so eloquently sang.


A broken heart, as I was forced to hide…..


Steve B 11/17


10 Years……. 11 Days

I’m afraid

My own sense of being, is now one of alone-ness

Frightened, because I’ve been complete,

so now an inherent shadow, broken and disparate.

Reminders of what once was…

A birthday,

One of many, but oh so memorable

Because you professed your love.

Now just a memory, that moment of words

hearing and believing…

Wanting, no NEEDING it to be true…

But, like empty gifts, the ‘Deputy’ that stands in for your disappearance…..

You’re felt, but clearly not FELT……..


Not to touch, but become a fading memory………….

And still… Even if I count the days,

I don’t know why…

And yet, I still love you.    Does that make me weak?

Steve B 03/16

That’s it then?

Replacement found?


Our time, now forgotten?

My love, my mission, your wish my command……


How deep is the Irony, that what was spoken?

Words uttered, perhaps of the moment?

Love, desire, meaning, sacrifice, want, hope, togetherness……….


Lost because the road wasn’t smooth enough,

that communication wasn’t what you needed it to be…….

Ha, ha, ha, I laugh…. And I weep.


You speak of values, yet showed me you are happy to betray your own,

in the moment, when it suits yourself.

Ready with an excuse, a way out, a back door…..

Not suggesting fault at my door, but implying my own self lacks that certain something.


Then you cite distance, oh another Irony…

‘We’ being too far apart, separated by a distance that, in reality, was nothing.

But now, you make a point about, with this new ‘love’, as I am not good enough….

That being apart pains you, and you WANT to take the time to get closer..


If only my love for you, and you know I did love you, would elicit such a response.


Now I merely welcome the abyss.

I’ve loved, and I’ve not been loved……. So, I’ll live out my days, alone.


Here’s a little bit of truth.

If you left this world before me, I would fight to carry your coffin, and would stand before a crowd to express my love and admiration….

But, if I died tomorrow… Would you even care?

Or would I just be someone else who fulfilled a purpose when you spread your arms and cried out in some moment of need?

Steve B 07/15




spoken, written, heard, read…….

It doesn’t matter,

what matters is what is meant,

what flows from understanding,

how things move forward.

We spend time formulating how,

but we don’t seem to define the meaning,

or care if they’re understood.

All that matters is how well you feel,

how you rationalise that meaning to yourself.

Semantic bullshit to warm yourself at night,

whilst the rest of us just dwell on what we’ll never understand.

Not because we don’t try, or because we aren’t willing…..


But because the meaning only makes sense to the person speaking, or writing.

And if it makes sense to them, does it matter if it never makes sense to anyone else?


Steve B 08/14

Ears that never listened,

eyes that never spied.

Intermittent body response,

A mind that chose to hide.


The soul that couldn’t open,

heart that wouldn’t want.

Words which now unspoken,

for there exists a font.


Caresses lost in Autumn,

Summer touches lost.

Spring begats beginning,

Winter turned to frost.


To wait and perhaps wonder,

leaning back to cry.

Hope for simply something,

To try or just to cry.


Alone we sit together,

apart yet somehow one.

I mourn my loss of you,

has your life now begun?


Steve B 07/14

She’s a Superstar

Here she comes,
Seven suns.
A burning flame.
She got my love,
Got my head.
But it’s all the same.
She climbed so high…….
I don’t know why.
High, all on her own.
And I know,
She’s in the air,
And I don’t want it to go.
I can feel her love,
But I don’t want it to go
She got my woe,
Got my hand,
Took the dreams Right out of my head
She bought the world,
I paid the bills,
I took those pills,
It was wind in her sails.
She climbed so high.
I don’t know why
High, all on her own
And I know,
She’s in the air,
And I don’t want it to go.
I can feel her love,
But I don’t want it to go.
Song by Verve, 1992

Life provides an emotional shield……..

We grow up into a shallow and narcissistic world, where the beautiful have so much more than what their soul deserves.

For the rest of us ‘little people’, we scratch and claw in the dirt that has settled on the wooden beams of where we are.

Not really knowing the feminine form beyond the teat of our mother’s breast, her voice and her insistence of what her gender really has to offer……. To only offer us lonely, open-handed fools………

Let me make it clear, here and now………..

I can walk away from a partner who isn’t who I would choose to be with……

With a little more effort, I can walk away from the best lover I’ve ever been intimate, and close to emotionally…… If there was a defined conflict of personality and that sense of where ‘we’ could be……….   In time……….

But, what I…….. Personally, can’t let go of……… Even if ‘we’ can’t be in a partnership…. If ‘WE’ really can’t be lovers………….

What I find is impossible to let go of…. Is being FRIENDS……

Someone to chat to, to discuss the inane and ‘everyday’……

If you can’t love me, i understand………

I could love you in an instant, but I can just live with your time, thoughts and passions……..

You will find a ‘someone’ who can tick all the boxes…… And that, your happiness……Will make me a very happy man…….

My love was for you, but it was unrequited…….

So, I wonder if you would, or ever could, choose to chat and just offer your thoughts…………

Choose to open a dialogue, and communicate……. Oh, how I miss just chatting with you.


Steve B 02/14

Becoming Calcified

That feeling has returned,

a physically ill sensation, manifesting right at my very centre.

Another day to forget, as a ray of hope

is extinguished. Leaving only despair, uncertainty and loneliness.

How is it that what once came easily has become so elusive?

I fear for myself, but only because there will come a point where

everything becomes beyond my means, or ability.

These tears will flow for the moment,

until such time as the dark reality becomes my reality.

I’ll try not to get my hopes up.

Steve B 01/14

Across a Million Miles

No one lived, who saw the sword.

For the briefest moment, they realised, and understood.

Before being gone.

And such is the heart. We belive that there is something that can be explained.

Yet, when we truly realise……. It’s over, gone…….. Just something we try to put into words.


Severed from what we know, becoming a transient exposition of a million, million thoughts.

Gone,  and never to be recovered, we try………. Oh, how we try to move on.

Forgetting that beautiful face, those encompassing curves, that intellectual mind,

we want to forget that special something, that made us feel like we were a small part of something

that might echo beyond this, that, trivial essences which bind us to the material world.


But no…….. We all could die right now, here, alone……. No one would care,

and yet in their glancing memory we could still exist.

Made real again in that briefest moment, then forgotten…. Like so much flotsam pressing against the

corners of their mind. A mind, like our own, we thought a dual existence might shape..

Yet, against the passage of time, we become just another trivial choice.


Perhaps just that instance when you didn’t look both ways?


I’m glad you crossed the road alone…… But I’m sad that I now only get to glance at you

between those passing cars……. And you look so happy without me.


Steve B 01/14