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Best Poems Written by Timothy James Stakland

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Mother

we share the stars,
paths unknown to one another.
they call out to us and we remember -
we meet ourselves
walking together.

Copyright © Timothy James Stakland | Year Posted 2022



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Recovery

loneliness doesn't torment, it matures.
so you must make the sun your lover.*
nothing in sight.
my heart whispers, "thank you."
how can it say this? why does it cut?
can anything afflict when everything already does?
my lover is watching.
glass. steps concrete doors razors. keys.a needle.
my lover watches me.
can i meet the stare? can i raise my eyes and 
let my bones melt?
i see someone over there in the corner sobbing.
this is holy ground.
i traded the surreal.
now i can feel the chain link and cuffs and shackles
is this what it feels like to feel?
the darkness was horror. i stood paralyzed,
engulfed by terror.  is it endless? surely it must be endless.
You told me you would meet me there.
You would walk with me.
then you swallowed the pills.  you covered your face
with the party mask and attached the hose, filling your 
lungs with helium.  You are asleep.
the note said sorry,
but you wanted this since you were five years old.
is this what it feels like to feel?
do you also feel cold steel around your wrists and ankles?
i will meet you there 
not in shadow, but sunlight.
this is holy ground,



*first 2 lines adapted from Nietzsche

Copyright © Timothy James Stakland | Year Posted 2022

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Prayer Number 3

what happened?
words pass by. i watch for a glimmer.
i still wait - there is no hurry, and i smile.

Copyright © Timothy James Stakland | Year Posted 2022

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Things Discarded

my friend is awake
we watch snow melt as it falls on the concrete outside.
"well, another season" is what he says.
they come and go here - he will be gone by the end of the year.
i am sad that the snow melts so quickly on the concrete.
it lasts longer on grass,
but i do not see much of that.
"roll up!" they tell me.
god damnit.
i gather my things and put them into two mesh laundry bags.
i try to ignore a tightness in my chest
and uneasiness in my joints.
they need the space for someone else.
they do not tell me to where i am being sent
and i try to convince myself that it does not matter.

Copyright © Timothy James Stakland | Year Posted 2022

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Solitary

soundless. still.
deafening pressure.
but why does it shine?

Copyright © Timothy James Stakland | Year Posted 2022



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cruel masters

sometimes there are cruel masters
who sneer and inflict pain for no reason at all.
i do not know where they come from — why do they come at all — or where they go
and so i am always afraid. 
today i awoke and felt anxious and sad
i wondered, “will it get worse?”
the sunlight is pure truth
and only that matters. 
i sit outside and feel my body swell with its warmth -
birds are playing and fighting and singing as the wind
hurls them about. 
we are warmed and illuminated by the same glowing, burning sun. —
somehow the sweltering heat reminds me of something 
and i am not afraid.

Copyright © Timothy James Stakland | Year Posted 2025

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untitled

the inevitability of fire:
union.
     i do not want to be alone.

   what is pain?


Copyright © Timothy James Stakland | Year Posted 2025


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry