Short Stepladder Poems

cleaning the gutters
spontaneous funeral
a dead baby bird

autumn pallbearer
from a silver stepladder
silent elegy...

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Listen to poem:

old stepladder
still able to climb,
still able to lean,
to prop and lift you up,
now elatedly sublime
a fixture prime in space
in pride of place
grounded
shelved
dishevelled...

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“dad’s dad”


the fun in function is when do becomes does
less rungs than wrongs in one that loves
i cannot climb high in my family tree
i know no nuts for as you can see
this is my stepladder because
i never knew who my real ladder was...

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They have frowsy flamboyant hats,
some are born English,
while others are obviously alien.

They need a deep corner to thrive,
or a high ceiling.

Like Maasai maidens their necks
are stretched to infinity,
they will not take much manhandling.

If we ever find their spaceships
we will need a stepladder
to greet their leader.

They both cure depression
and bring depression on,
especially if you stand too long
in their shadows.
...

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Stepladder up to the ceilings

Held with high reasons and feelings

The bookcase


Volumes of joy and pure leisure

State their case as printed pleasure

A bookworm


Shape a life into linked chapters

Mind and soul as truth extractors

His bookmarks


Many things he can’t quite discern

Unfinished business much to learn

To bookends


Legends fiction subconscious streams

Myths fantasy and vivid dreams

Of booklore 



01st May 2020...

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okay. keep doing that.
keep on doing what you do.

it’s not like I care.

it’s not like you’re slapping me in the face, or anything
it’s not like every time you’re high off of him, you shove me deeper into dirt
it’s not like I was only a stepladder to your own selfish euphoria
and it’s not like you forgot once you were at the top

it’s not as if my life has ended.



of course not.
because you know that i, the sensitive, careful boy, am too tough for heartbreak.

keep going...

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