When we were kids, you liked to torment me, go to the park and climb the highest tree.
Run across gullies at high speed, leave me on the other side with shaking knees.
But then there were days by the TV watching Banana splits and Christopher Lee.
Going to the fields to hide in long grass then run round the streets and fall on our ****.
We moved like gypsies from place to place, new schools, new people, we accepted our fate.
The boy with the golden hair was by my side and I wasn’t lonely cause we were best mates.
Then came the day we no longer roamed, found schools with good teachers, at last we were home.
We got on our bikes to explore the estate; cautious and wary we sped round the place.
To our surprise the kids were friendly and fun, not hostile or tough, or in your face.
Young ones, older ones, boys and girls, down by the brook all summer long.
Through escapades, bonfires, occasional tiffs, the Steppingstone gang stayed strong.
Failure was just a steppingstone to success
Every loss brought you a step closer
Now your picture’s on that poster
In the limelight you effloresced
Moments become wet steppingstone
over a stream of consciousness.
At breakfast, a TV delivers omens
with a perky disposition.
Buttering grilled bread, distracted by normality,
slipping through the well-greased gears
of a self-made reality,
then a singing hint of burnt toast
ripples through suddenly aware
nostril hair.
What should you do today -
walk the mood off
or pray brother pray?
Will the monstrous appear,
its likeness --- cute and kittenish,
though even now
new velvet satanic horns
are already budding.
Will the fuzz and fur turn quickly
to scabs and scales?
Sinister left-handed slaps of hysteria
swipe the sweat from wrinkled foreheads.
In a room bereft of natural illumination,
a light on an open laptop is blinking,
imagination types a nightmare
on the underside of its blank screen.
Brains unchecked by reason,
swivel inside their bony portholes,
they search this way and that
for a more feasible fantasy
before this amorphous apprehension
emerges fully clothed
as an all too familiar
mirror image.
musical, melodic, lilting, lovely poetic stage
inspired, sentimental, readily expressive
sparkly, brilliant, shiny, glittering diamond
quintessential classy, chic, savory, steppingstone
leading to lively, perky, brilliant dazzling, gorgeous poetry
I was seated in an unknown place
Every corner I was greeted with was something new
The last 3 years of my life may as well have been erased
nobody wanted to talk to me, I came so late like an aftertaste
You weren't a nobody, and to you I was somebody
Thats all it took for me to be more than gaudy
You were the best thing I had experienced to date
You didn't mind that I wasn't okay
You walked me to my counsellor
I wish I could say more than that
You hated your thighs, but you loved your eyes
I could look you up and down and never find something to despise
Your self-image was shattered, what you thought you deserved splattered
Now that I’m gone and you have moved on, is that still the case?
You had the most beautiful heart but weren't ready to embrace I love you; I mean that with my ribs exposed
Reach inside, strip away my bones
Anything that made you happy was worth it to me
I’m just a steppingstone, helping you be the best you can be
I just hoped you would tread lightly, you shattered me and watched me
crumble
Hurt people hurt people
It’s not your fault
I don’t hate you
I wish to become something you exalt
From The Desk of.......Missouri Mentez Waffo
Crowned Steppingstone Champion Five times
Missouri Trophy Tournament Makes Contender Number One
Contender in Three different leagues and
Makes the Winner Current and defending
Missouri Champion: Tournament pending
upon the current Position of the Trophy Holder
Miffle snizzle gupper shran! Dizzle Nezzle swooper swant! Yeah ? Yeah? gulper Sayez super swoop! Alto, samples shoe heel top. She-it, gals be blowing rounds, tickling there fanasies and getting down. Dop, dop, ah Rump-it Dah dootle Ramfut, Ah dopple, dopple swoop and foole!Candy coat my tootle flav, and make my hips swoggle swoop! Sooth the edges Baby. The feather in my hat takes flight, and my woman aint acting right. These wonez like me. Baby, baby can't this be. I know I'm in love! Tilt Did hur thang Wiff Bouis! Reedmember? A guitar Man iz hard to find. And a Desent Chello keeps everythang Mellow. Swoop the top, and and glop, lay-it down on top. Get that suppa ready Baby, hubbies coming Home!
Dance my soul
Though your day is dark
And night is long-cold
Take heart for the tide will soon turn
And pain fades away
It has been a winding tedious journey
But the dawn is near
And glad tidings will soon unfurl
Fear not the shadow and the uncertainty it brings
Hope is the light and faith the fire
Let faith burn and hope shine
The place of thorns where you stand
Is but a steppingstone into blossomed garden
And you shall fragranced find
The song and dance
Of your resurrected greatness.
The music trying to catch up with itself
as I sit here in the dark
—a figment of a lost dimension
—a remnant of some other duality
This place becoming a steppingstone
to what is now already gone
and the melody so close, so distant, and so far,
passing through itself to what might have been
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2020)
tall bridge steppingstone
to a paradise so bright
world gone instantly
to long for a brief moment
of something is to yearn in
many minuscule portions
of episodic bliss that is like
a mirage with a heartbeat
using the vulnerability of a
eagerly awaiting person as
a steppingstone to the the
coldest part of the heart that
had no apparent button for the
main purpose to restart a pivotal
part that would return previously
as well as current forward motion
decisions to the most welcoming
description of "Smart"....
It was coming up, the politics
like dirty sex
in tall Parthenium grass.
The panther was hiding on a steppingstone
watching the hot, field hockey
played with skulls of peers.
Mauled, the peach skin was
entertaining sunlight in
the metaphoric village.
Prisoners of false ceilings,
we sing the anthem with
the crowd of wolves.
Satish Verma
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