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Best Poems Written by Luke Steadman

Below are the all-time best Luke Steadman poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Wondering-

the clouds outside brought along the thunder
making the pillars of the courthouse want to fall
sitting at my desk I began to wonder
as the teacher spoke he faded into the wall 

my mind drifted like a piece of wood
with my imagination running ahead
pulling my thoughts as far as they could
in and around like a needle and thread 

forgetting the lesson for the day
and finding a hidden corner of my mind
I knew the path but not the way
as I sat there letting the trail unwind 

I was lost by all my mind had to show
with no one but me to offer suggestions 
the good the bad the high the low
like one answer to a thousand questions 

fluttering around like a sparrow
I couldn’t find a ceiling or a floor
but the walls only seemed to narrow
as I reached for the only door 

opening to misplaced dreams of the past
and memories that had long departed
hoping this place would forever last
but I began to float back to where I started 

realizing I had landed from my mental flight 
I looked about a class full of hollow aspirations
blindly nodding their heads whether wrong or right
without chasing their own imaginations

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Sea Glass and Skipping Stones...

waves shape the sea glass

rain paints the skipping stones

sand frames the ocean

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Never Forget That All Love Is Eventually Lost-

I once walked in the falling snow holding your hand
I was always warm even if it was frozen outside
and in the summer we would tiptoe in the sand
but like the sea your love has changed its tide
you said things weren't the same as before
and made me not want to love anymore
 
you and I would lie under the shooting stars
and forget that we were humans too
promising each other we would make it far
but both the promises and stars fell into the blue
you've left me lying alone on that grassy floor
and made me not want to love anymore 
 
when times get quiet all I do is wonder
if you are thinking about me as well
especially during storms of lighting and thunder
and when, behind us, moonlit shadows fell
you lost the time for me and the ability to adore
and made me not want to love anymore
 
I once couldn't be happier like a innocent child
whenever we would sleep together at night
you'd close your eyes and I just always smiled
but you were confused on what was wrong and right
and like your eyes, you soon closed my heart's door
and made me not want to love anymore

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Time Is Constantly Chasing...

the silver framed reading glasses rest on the nose of a father 
who’s lost in his novel as he sits up in his now love empty bed
he’s living a different life in the journey he’s taking as he absorbs 
the black and white words that are full of color in his head

the tick-tock if his dad’s pocket watch is a reminder
that his own time is constantly chasing after him
and on the wall a giant’s silhouette is reading over his shoulder 
that’s created by the single switch bulb that has also grown dim 

he leans over and pulls down on the string attached to the light 
and it swings like the pendulum on the grandfather clock in next room
as the wrinkles around his eyes help to ease them shut and after a moment 
his dreams put him back into the journey that he wanted to resume

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Single Tree Silhouettes...

along the sunflower sunrises 
you can watch butterflies quiver as if they were nature's kites
I just hope that there’s another rootless person
who wakes to dance in the bloom of morning’s first lights

on days of fair cotton candy clouds 
you can fix your eyes past all the single tree silhouettes 
I just hope that there’s another roaming person
who looks outside of life’s branches instead of using them as nets

in the mystic tangerine sunsets 
you can actually see the paints spill along the horizon’s ledge 
I just hope that there’s another drifting person
who watches the colors trickle along dusk’s cliff edge

in the low phantom moon
you can only see his orange peel grin in his half exposed expression
I just hope that there’s another nomadic person
who smiles back as they dream away their day lit depression

and on the clearest chestnut nights 
you can always smell the fog that floated over an anonymous pond
I just hope that there’s another wandering person 
who takes it all in all, but never forgets that there is always more beyond

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The Girl That Lost Her Way-

I thought I saw your curious eye starring through the key hole
of my old cedar door
it was confirmed when I opened it and saw your lipstick painted cigarette still smoking 
on the floor

I hope you weren’t trying to take a look into my unspoken thoughts 
of speculating sorrow
because they will not be revealed until they scatter about my dreams that will 
deliver me to tomorrow

and no you’re not invited to watch the slideshow that will projected onto the closed lids 
of my amber eyes
that viewing is reserved for those who have removed their vale to show who they are 
and extinguish their disguise 

but for you to do that you would have to be true to yourself and that’s impossible 
with your partly cloudy personality
because as a casualty of conformity you have sacrificed your hopes and dreams 
that once accompanied your originality

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Skipping Stone Dreams-

soft spoken lyrics weave their fingers between yours 
taking you to a calendar’s crossed out day 

maybe one you had thought was forgotten 
one that seemed to wander astray

but the words chimed in your peaceful mind
as the faceless tune decides what it will portray

sometimes you enjoy the mysterious memories
sometimes you want to push them away

but for some unknown reason they all trickle down 
winding recollection streams
to places you thought were lost in the silent splash
of your skipping stone dreams

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Broken Halo Blues...

the love I had for you has faded away 
and vanished into moonlit skies
like the smoke from a candle blown out 
for the night, disappearing as it flies

but like the scent of the candle 
I still can smell your perfume on the covers
and as I lay my head down to rest
I still sometimes wish we were lovers

but you know that could never ensue
because it’s hard to love someone 
whose halo has broken in two

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Shooting Skies and Fireflies...

the firefly sky 

dancing over the prairie

with the shooting stars

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Lost In the Wilderness...

the woods 
were made for the branching dreams 
of hunters...
the brooks 
for the trickling songs 
of fishermen... 
the mountains 
for the highest visions 
of climbers...
and the sea 
for the whispering secrets 
of sailors...