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Selected Poems of Steven Curtis Lance

Displaying Poems 2126 thru 2150 of 2799 Poems

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Jan 10, 2006, 7:17 am

As the Calendar Speaks Epiphany

In the midst of life it appears to me
Now as I see through its ice-brittle heart
This culture is consumed with cruelty
Though I celebrate the exceptions I
Fear they only prove the rule as I try
To find the light but find to my despair
Searching for truth as the deceptions fly
That it most often is simply not there
If it ever existed anywhere
As the calendar speaks epiphany

Though we have always felt ourselves so smart
It was our hopeful misfortune to be
Naive to believe those who would deceive
Through a propagandistic history
Which justifies hate in disguise through lies
Of glory and manifest destiny
Though we have always held ourselves apart
We were fools in the best schools we were tools
Of a tyrannical oligarchy
Which ran a scam they called democracy

And all through history little has changed
They have always been greedy and grasping
Only the deckchairs have been rearranged
Deep is the cold sea shallow the glory
As we slide to sink freezing and gasping
Caught in a net caught up in the story
Left by manifest destiny to die
In the midst of life it appears to me
Wondering under a star-spangled sky
As the calendar speaks epiphany

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Jan 8, 2006, 6:58 am

Oh Beautiful Terrible Carousel

I recall a beautiful carousel
Gold leaf on porcelain of white and blue
I rode it to heaven rode it to hell
Never got there never got anywhere
None of my carousel wishes came true
But that was my fault because I lacked faith

I wonder if I were to ride with you
If it would not end as it does in death
Maybe it would take off like a rocket
Aboard which to explore the universe
I still have two tickets in my pocket
And if we die at least we have lived worse

It beckons to me with music and lights
Like nothing you have ever heard nor seen
With enchanted days and magical nights
All of the memories which never were
Of all of the wonders which might have been
All of those dreams which they always defer

Come take me to heaven take me to hell
Oh beautiful terrible carousel

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Jan 7, 2006, 10:58 am

What the Sunset Told Me

Now as the fools fall from the weight
Of fearful folly to the fate
Of all the arrogant their days
End now as their kind end always
And ever for they can never
Grow at all since they know it all

Or so they think here at the brink
Of final destruction and fall

Sadly we slowly turn away
And wonder if a better day
Could rise with the sun tomorrow
If we too could rise from sorrow

No one left but us to love us
Nothing left to say but hold me
Nothing left but sky above us
This is what the sunset told me

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Jan 6, 2006, 11:42 pm

Lesson Unlearned

It is an observable phenomenon
That those who are down tend to get shat upon

Why do we do this to each other? Just when
We need each other most it is always then
Someone decides to take advantage of our
Incapacity and gain some petty power
At our great expense when we have least defense
A failure of sensitivity and sense

For when the ones who wound find the tables turned
They just might get burned ...by their lesson unlearned

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Jan 6, 2006, 4:24 am

The Wind the Avocado Tree and Me

Late avocados in January
Shaken down by desert winds untimely
Shining the sparkling stars to the very
Diamonds of heaven they seem to be

I watch the old tree breathing with the wind
It knows life is a dance and not a race
Obeying the laws no man can rescind
Showing there is more to life than we see
Dancing with grace in the timeless embrace
Of simple natural reality

I join the dance with the wind in my face
Unending unbegun where all is one
We children of the universe we three
The wind the avocado tree and me

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Jan 5, 2006, 5:11 am

Mens Sana in Corpore Sano

When I do a hundred situps or two
I feel a bright spark of hope burning through
When depressed or distressed I seek that burn
Of exercise so that my mind can learn
The truth a disciplined body can teach
Mens sana in corpore sano: each
Part of the person contributes in kind
A sound body enables a sound mind

Out of all my trials I realize
That my best medicine is exercise

Even though I may never be wealthy
My abdominal muscles are healthy
Hard abs are honest-earned and I have learned
That by exercising and being kind
In a tough-love kind of way every day
To my body I can enrich my mind
It makes me feel like writing poetry
When I do a hundred situps or three

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Jan 3, 2006, 8:27 pm

Spam I Am:
The Lady Seemed Nice on the Phone

As I wait for snail mail
To find out how I fail
In society's way
To measure up today
I am just hoping that Social Security
Takes the answer of a social cancer like me
And will then leave me alone
To just be this little-known
And mentally-disabled poet which I am
Emailing myself to those who think I am spam

People delete what they cannot eat
Having consumed me now they excrete
But the lady seemed nice on the phone
Consumption: excretion
Assumption: deletion
In reality things look bleak for me
I am a homeless man in a house
I have a cat but I am the mouse
Yet what do I know of reality?
And the lady seemed nice on the phone

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Jan 3, 2006, 5:06 am


Why do I go to the trouble to write
Perfectionistic poetry at night
When people who are paired-off are asleep
To navigate these waters dark and deep
Riding this tide and drifting like these clouds
Which float objectively above the crowds
Of those who are more fortunate than me?

With no one to be with no place to be
I am a solitary wanderer
Going places where no one ever goes
Some of which are some of which never were

And where I might end up nobody knows

I like it this way so I leave the day
To walk in darkness and leave you the light
I find poetry in the dark you see
I travel light in the dark you might say

Those who have nothing are those who are free

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Jan 2, 2006, 6:38 am

The Joining of Hands

With the future out of sight
But at peace with the past
The present time seems the right
Time to live peace at last

I need nobody
But nobody needs me
I write and study
And live simplicity

Everybody yearns
To have or have not
Yet nobody learns
That it will all rot
Till it gets too late
In a wink of fate

Without saying a word
The heart understands
In its silence is heard
The joining of hands

Where without a word spoken
Love speaks eloquently
There truth endures unbroken
Alive in you and me

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Jan 1, 2006, 12:52 pm

Here at the Turn of Time

When things go well my poetry gets smug
And things don't really go well anyway
Only a stupid illusion if snug

To get through another meaningless day

So as I fall into the grave I've dug
I'll say what I mean and mean what I say
Here at the turn of time in honest rhyme

They teach young poets to write what they know

I don't know anything but suffering
But what I know is that it makes me grow
I'll take my suffering any old time

Here at the turn of time my oldest friend

Which hurts me yet which never deserts me
The only friend I have I can depend
On as this carousel spins madly on

Faster and faster until I am gone

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Jan 1, 2006, 10:00 am

Time to Scream Happy New Year

Alone with the crowd I see
The frozen brittleness of
Our surging society
Spasming through motions of love
Screaming aloud silently
Like painted puppets we dance
Animated by steel strings
Bound and gagged by time and chance

Beautiful bright broken things
Alone with the crowd to be
Alone together at least
Dance this dance of death with me
Starving to death at our feast
Of booming banality
But it doesn't hurt at all
Doesn't matter anyway

Dancing on thin ice looks nice
Icicle fragility
Nobody escapes the ball
Everybody dies someday
Isn't that why we are here?
Now the ball will fall away
Pretty smiles freeze hard in fear
Hold my hand I understand

Welcome to the end my friend
Time to scream Happy New Year

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVI

Dec 31, 2005, 10:28 am

On My Birthday

31 December 2005

I am thankful for this life given unto me
All its ups and downs along the way
For the privilege of serving through poetry

As I mark yet another birthday

I realize just how fortunate I have been
Grateful I had the good sense to stay
So as not to miss all the wonders I have seen

Nor would I go back and change it because
It was supposed to be the way it was

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 28, 2005, 11:55 pm

To Encourage a Fellow Poet

When words are apropos and apposite
When they aptly speak the voice of your heart
Why do they elicit an opposite
Response in those you thought had eyes to see
And instead of how you thought it would be
They reject those words and rip them apart?

The cause is that old curse of jealousy

The lower nature of man far from dead
Still slithers along to rear up its head
Proudly criticizing loudly when we
Begin to speak truth in our poetry
When we find our voice when we make that choice
To stop pandering start to speak our mind
When poetry leaves the petty behind

They try to hold you down then as you rise

But they will be in for a big surprise
In a while when you through substance and style
To open their tightly-closed minds and eyes
Make all their jealous heads spin with a smile
Do what you are here for! Knock at their door
Then break through it: I know you can do it

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 27, 2005, 9:47 am

Riding the Riddle

Rhyme is not a prison but a puzzle
Not to confine but refine and define
Not for the weak but that by which we speak
As by megaphone and not by muzzle
Meaningful pattern turns in the right hands
Water of prose into poetry's wine

Yet rare is the poet who understands
The true gravity of this alchemy
Heard in the silence and seen in the dark
Squaring the circle the taming of time
As practiced by madmen bearing this mark
Riding the riddle and gaming the rhyme

Poetry chooses some few for its will
Never loses nor refuses its thrill
To those who dare to answer it like me
We who claim the call then inherit all
Of poetry returning what it gave
Changed and exchanged saved by that which we save

Enslaved by poetry to be made free
As part of everything even if small

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 26, 2005, 10:23 am

Two Hearts Will Understand

For all the wrong words which wound and lay waste
A poem is an act of redemption
For all the things said heedlessly in haste
A chance to say it right an exemption
An opportunity to speak to light
Cosmos out of the chaos of the night

Wherein we say in our most perfect way
Considered reconsidered thought about
That which we wish we had said yesterday
And though a little late the truth comes out
Clarified rarified into our best
Hoping that others will forget the rest
All the imperfections of life and speech

Since we never know the right thing to say
Till after the moment after the test
A poem is a letter in which each
Word has been chosen with the utmost care
We can only hope someone will be there
To read the words we meant in the first place

So go on and write a poem for me
Say things you could never say to my face
Two hearts will understand ...and destiny

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 24, 2005, 11:17 pm

The Silent Singing

Echo of a winter night
When creation listened
And the daystar gleaming bright
Like a diamond glistened

From beyond the starlit sky
Comes the silent singing
Soundless echo from on high
Through the ages ringing

Once aloud in silent field
Shepherds heard those voices
Still in silent hearts revealed
Still the night rejoices

From beyond the starlit sky
Comes the silent singing
Soundless song to never die
Endless ages ringing

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 24, 2005, 12:03 am

Kept Reality

You say reality is true
Yet never bother to explain
What true means and even should you
Stoop to speak of it still disdain
To answer questions if you do

Since you refuse to face again
That true reality which grew
There in the dark you always knew
Would never ever go away

But throbbing closeted all night
Coils cocked to rock your world someday
Once it escapes out into light
When reality brings you to
This closet where you keep your fears

Where you have kept me all these years

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 23, 2005, 7:22 am

Of Nietzsche God and Mermaids

Nietzsche is dead yet God persists
The lonesome town is falling down
The aching heart remains resists
Unsinkable and will not drown
Despite the cold steel efforts of
The cabal of conformity
To suck originality
From what we are and what we love

The shaking of their angry fists
Seems impotent in retrospect
If these damned fools are the elect
Who mark us down in little lists
Then dig up Nietzsche and ask him
What we should do in times like these
Descending with the cherubim
Into triumphant vanities

They do not speak for God to me
I swim with mermaids and caress
Their shining skin and feel God bless
Us in the sea since on the land
The Hitlers of hypocrisy
Who never say thank you nor please
But only hate and make a mess
Would not could never understand

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 22, 2005, 12:20 pm

Christmas in The OC

Orange County, California, USA

Eighty degrees for Christmas and not a cloud in the sky
The surf is fantastic and I have some plastic which I
Intend to spend on gift cards at Starbucks this afternoon

The government reads my emails but I still have the moon
They tap into my telephone but I am not alone
If they can get their rocks off without taking their socks off
Then glad to be of service nor do they make me nervous

As Christmas comes again to The OC it comes to me
I can handle whatever the government cares to send
My reality will never break because it can bend

I deal with insanity by practicing poetry
I jump right in and do it and it helps me get through it
To write a poem about it to make you smile awhile
Christmas in The OC you see is a matter of style

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 20, 2005, 3:34 pm

A Stone to Mark the Mile

I have been Christmasing a little while
And been pleased to find presents left for me
Tonight a bag of pecans brought a smile
Like my presents did when I was a kid
I found a nutcracker in the pantry
And brushed up on my nutcracking technique
With Christmas coming the end of the week

One of my sons has hidden presents here
I had better not mention what they are
Should his recipients read this I fear
It would snatch surprise from their curious eyes
But I can feel the sparkle of a star
Rising on the horizon of my heart
I am ready for the magic to start

Today I think my new book will arrive
And that always excites me even now
Things like new books make me feel so alive
With Christmas present power at this late hour
I never grew up in that way somehow
And when I get that package it will be
A Christmas present from my poetry

I feel like it will all be worth it when
I hold that gathered harvest in my hand
If you make things too you will understand
That my work at last will be finished then
A little while: a stone to mark the mile

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 19, 2005, 1:58 am

Happy New Year to Us!

As a gentle gentleman of letters
I have reached a point of repose of sorts
Having outfoxed the worst of my betters
Snug in my foxhole immune to the snorts
Of those who resist happy holidays
If we should dare to speak the wrong greeting

Those supermen who ever and always
Know what is wrong with us without meeting
Without ever bothering to listen
To what any of us lost souls might say
As on their brows their anointments glisten

They seem to have shut up and gone away
So it seems feasible to me that we
Who have at their hands known heartache and fear
Having survived all their mischief might see
Happier days in the coming new year

That half-empty glass looks half-full to me
Since were it not for hope the heart would break
And given self-fulfilling prophecy
Those who give up on hope make a mistake
And we can ill afford another one
This year we have all made enough of those

But soon we will see a new year begun
I can see hope if we keep on our toes
The only way is up (since we have done
About as badly as possible) so
Happy New Year to us! Our future is now

My brothers and my sisters here we go
I believe in us and want you to know
I have a good feeling about us somehow
That we can do it that we will get through it
With style and with grace with a smile on our face

And as for our masters? Agree to disagree
Look forward and not back nor let us regret
Our annus horribilis anomaly
Some of us are on a roll and I will bet
No matter what has happened the best is yet
To be for you and me: the best is yet to be

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 17, 2005, 12:18 am

Riding the Rainbow of Reality

Day by day the lessons of life are drawn
Complicated designs in lines of grey
Form patterns for this rainbow we ride on
The rainbow of reality is made
Moment by moment until we are gone
Of colors in every value and shade

Black and white minds shout no and turn away
Insisting on the certainty they paid
For being made for platitudes of power
Swimming upstream like battleships to spawn

Set to devour us this colorful hour
Disdaining those who dare to disagree
With their official myth agreed upon
Draining the color from you and from me

Drunk with power they think themselves so clever
But since their eyes see only black and white
Their vision is so narrow they never
Can understand until it is too late

They are the past now and we are their fate

So smile awhile now in the rainbow light
It is just a matter of time until
We are free and we see the victory
Which was ours all along and is ours still
A living spectrum colorful and bright
Riding the rainbow of reality

+Steven Curtis Lance

Fiat justitia ruat mundus: fiat lux

Copyright MMV

Dec 16, 2005, 1:16 am

Christmas Crossroads

So close to Christmas and so far away
From everyone from everything tonight
I fear both life and death and so I stay
If tentatively with the door in sight
In the midst of it all decking the hall
With forty feet of garlands my daughter
Gave me when she surprised me and brought her
Encouragement her strings of sparkling light

I must gather myself arrange my face
At least buy gift certificates somehow
Some way or other get through this with grace
If I can then it will be over now
Before I know it I must not show it
Not this darkness not this terror I feel
Not this shadow which lurks within these walls
I have something tangible to embrace

The love of my children honest and real

In the light of their love the shadow falls
Because of how they look at me that way
It dries the dark to nothing in a smile
A tender hug which makes me want to say
I might just have to stick around awhile
To see how things turn out in a new year
Which could only be better than this one
There are those who love me who want me here

The shadow falls: my Christmas has begun

+Steven Curtis Lance

Merry Christmas

Copyright MMV

Dec 14, 2005, 10:53 pm

Hand on Holiday

I woke up this morning my right hand did not
My left hand remembered my right hand forgot
But has remembered something is wrong with me
Making it challenging to write poetry
Being distracted neurologically
Which is about as logical as I get

I keep waiting for it to wake up and yet
Watching this hand write as though it belonged to
Somebody else entirely and not to me
Is a worthwhile if unsettling thing to do
An alternative perspective certainly
Not artifice nor literary device
My numbed flesh-and-blood right hand makes me think twice
To make this estranged member work properly

If I am dreaming and wake up suddenly
Then you will never read these lines because they
Will not be written into the light of day
But if you are reading this my hand is numb
A fascinating foretaste of things to come
At least I finished my seventh book somehow

I guess my hand has gone on holiday now

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV

Dec 12, 2005, 5:30 am

Behind Enemy Lines

a survivor struggles to survive

What is it about me makes him hate me so?
God knows he is a piss-poor poet
He reminds me of my Uncle Jack I know
And the people who know me know it

That same dark anger which destroyed my childhood
All the torture the being misunderstood
Is all brought back to me in flashback
This man might as well be Uncle Jack

Of course Uncle Jack never wrote poetry
Hated my father because of that
But now when I encounter the bigotry
Of this man I only see the fat
Flushed sweating fury of Uncle Jack again

Something which was locked away breaks loose
He triggers me he opens that box of pain
Bearing the broken bones of abuse
Which I have kept locked like Pandora these years
But what comes out now is pity: no more tears

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMV


Displaying Poems 2126 thru 2150 of 2799 Poems

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