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Steve Watson Poem
How to endure
This infatuation
When the touch of your hand
Is crucifixion
And every glance
Enflames my soul
Yet better this than a
Conflagration
And all hope’s embers
Growing cold.
Steve W, 2019
Copyright © Steve Watson | Year Posted 2019
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Steve Watson Poem
This poet simply can’t
Reach people
He ascends but
Doesn’t steeple
He thinks of his work as
An odyssey
A pearl
Without the modesty
If only he had a
Coherent theme
A well turned phrase
Or a poignant scene
But he just doesn’t have
What he ought’a
And drivels away
Like water.
May 2019
Copyright © Steve Watson | Year Posted 2019
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Steve Watson Poem
Some deny them, some prepare
But we all know we’re
Going there
To the places where we die.
They might as well be in the stars
Mine on Venus, yours on Mars
Because we only know we’re
Going there
Not the when and not the where
Only that,
Waiting there
Are the places where we die.
SW, 2019
Copyright © Steve Watson | Year Posted 2019
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Steve Watson Poem
Is there something about grass
Close-clipped
On lawns and playing fields
That’s blithely overlooked?
Its qualities seem simply put:
Offsetting herbaceous borders
And yielding underfoot.
Or is every blade like everyone
Quite different from up-close
Unique and undervalued
Unsung and lachrymose?
SW, 2019
Copyright © Steve Watson | Year Posted 2019
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Steve Watson Poem
Leave your clothes on the bank
Leave your clothes on the beach
Get out of your depth
Get out of their reach
Resurrection is at hand
Your time is your own
Drown for your life
Sink like a stone
SW, 2019
Copyright © Steve Watson | Year Posted 2019
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