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Selected Poems of Steven Curtis Lance

Displaying Poems 2776 thru 2799 of 2799 Poems

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Dec 14, 2004, 3:46 pm

Transcendental Sonnet #1173:
Camelia Sinensis

Sick indifferent or well
Heaven purgatory hell
Whatever I have suffered in this life
The sting of it is buffered in the strife
By Camelia Sinensis

Whatever would I do without it?
By now I should have lost my senses
Make it tea for me and no mistake
Elixir of my life no doubt about it

Through fire and flood through wind and earthquake
Whatever comes to me every catastrophe
I have made it through and so will you
Just take this wee advice for free to you from me:
Lay off the booze (you snooze you lose) and make some tea

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 14, 2004, 4:43 am

Jingle Bell Go to Hell

a silly song for Silke

When the winter sun shines
And the shopping mall lines
Are long

Lengthening as days dwindle down

I would alleviate
Holiday depression
With a brief digression
As days abbreviate

Then is when I fire up my car

To seek peace on earth
(Elusive since birth)
To follow the star
(Wherever you are)

Then is when I get out of town

When jingle bells jingle
To hell with Kris Kringle
When the bells ring I sing
This song:

Bah humbug damn it get the hell away
From me you stupid fat man take your sleigh
Where the sun never shines
Jingle bell go to hell

Ding dong

Should the shopping mall lines
Go wrong
Should the whole thing go horribly awry
I will cackle madly as I cruise by

It just gives me a headache
Please pardon me for my unfriendly rhymes
But I have made the mistake
Of being suckered in too many times

Now I am getting out of here
Absum to zoom-zoom
But I will see you all next year

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 13, 2004, 4:32 pm

The Keepers of the God-Box

for Silke

When I was a boy
The preachers all preached
That the world would be ending soon

Sort of spoiled the joy
When that goal was reached
Of men driving cars on the moon

I grew up with no future
In denial of the past
As if each day were my last

My Bible had a zipper
But it was like a suture
To bind to doom and glory
One little last-day-tripper

It was a scary story

But what was that zipper meant to hold in?
He who does not end nor does he begin?
Perhaps it was meant to keep some things out
Perhaps it was sin? Perhaps it was doubt?


Baby-girl is it like this for you too
That you can never do nor be enough
Ever no matter what great things you do?

Growing up Baptist can be rough

Scared the hell out of me and I think you
Know what I mean
What might have been
Would never be

Except that God is so much bigger than all that

They try to keep him in a box but like a cat
He just keeps on climbing out
Every time they stuff him in

Of this I have no doubt
In this there is no sin
He who does not end nor does he begin
Is free
To be

Sharing his image and likeness with the likes of us
While The Keepers of the God-Box make ungodly fuss

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 13, 2004, 2:48 am

Transcendental Sonnet #1172:
I Was Here

I mean to say just what I mean
Not to be silenced nor ashamed
Seeing I might as well be seen

Being myself and being named
Better to mean just what I say
Than to regret what might have been

Being credited being blamed
Is better than fading away
The memory that I was here
These words I write for you today

I do not mean to disappear
I would not be forgotten by
This world and when my time to die
Comes you will know that I was here

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 12, 2004, 9:31 pm

Transcendental Sonnet #1171:
Or Maybe She Chose

I almost won the lottery to go to Vietnam
The only lottery one lost to win
The one my friends and I all prayed to lose

My father was the one who knew the bayonet the bomb
And also poetry
But he never knew me

He would have liked my life to end before it could begin
My mother did not have the right to choose
Or maybe she chose

Now only God knows

So they stopped the clock at zero
And I never got to go
Not a military hero

But then we will never know

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 12, 2004, 7:02 pm

Transcendental Sonnet #1170:
Never Doubt

for Silke

I miss you now so sadly
Here in this haunted house alone
As I await you madly
The sweetest woman ever known

To visit you gladly when midnight arrives
When two heartbeats once stopped are begun again
One perfect life woven of two broken lives
When the shattered shards of us are one again

I love you so much
Awaiting you now
Enduring somehow
To live for your touch

Never doubt I want you just as you want me
At the stroke of midnight Silke we break free

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 12, 2004, 4:16 am

Transcendental Sonnet #1169:

for Silke

The aspects of our love which are unspoken
Are deepest felt and heal things once thought broken
Beyond repair but I am there you are here
As one flesh as one love scares away the fear
Which once ruled those darkened places inside us

Loving hands and loving faces provide us
With a spark in the dark so I can see you
Through it all and I know you can see me too

My Silke it makes me complete to be there
Inside of you and for you to know I care
You are not alone anymore little one
The good days have come and your life has begun

Somebody loves you so much he wants to be
With you forever: you make me somebody

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 11, 2004, 9:17 pm

Transcendental Sonnet #1168:
New! Improved! Now 100% Snout and Anus Free!

I used to eat hot dogs but I don't anymore
I'm not quite sure why I ever ate them before
Had a book project called "Existential Hot Dogs"
Named after ground-up snouts and anuses of hogs
But then my publisher went completely insane
Existential hot dogs had affected her brain

I guess I'm at least a vegetarian now
It's been a long time since I've gnawed a pig or cow
To tell you the truth now I mostly eat brown rice
I'm sure the condemned ones at the fair think that's nice
Of me but see it's just my eccentricity
In any case my doctor is quite pleased with me

"Collected Poems" sounds so very much more dignified
And in the making of this book no animals have died

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 11, 2004, 7:13 am

Transcendental Sonnet #1167:
Note on a Recycled-Paper Napkin Found at the Scene

"All that meat and no potatoes"
So my Grandpa used to say
Do you think anybody knows
What he meant or if someday
The meaning would suddenly come to me
As a rite-of-passage epiphany?

A puppet dancing on a string
Any way the wind blows
Did anything mean anything?
Meat and no potatoes

"A miss is as good as a mile"
So my Grandma used to say
Thought about that for awhile
And then made sure I would not miss today

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 10, 2004, 10:43 pm

The Years as Wheels

When the chaff of life is burned
And the new year
Has arrived here
When the wheel of time is turned

My car will turn forty and I will turn fifty
I am at one with my car
And I find that quite as meaningful as thrifty
No matter how old we are

One Chrysler born in 1965
And one Lance born in 1954
On New Year's Eve the last day
Of December
My car was born the fourth day
Of September
In another world a long time ago
One we remember not the one we know

We two are fortunate to be alive
Known living better than the unknown dead
Together all these years as even more
Wait down the turning road which rolls ahead

For one twoscore and one twoscore and ten
The years as wheels turn round to roll again

+Steven Curtis Lance

Gesegnetes Neues Jahr

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 10, 2004, 4:34 am

About the Author:
Notes for an Autobiographical Operetta

I stand just under six feet tall and weigh one twenty five
I have my ups and downs but I am glad to be alive
Described as "willowy" I am flexible and youthful
My eyebrows tweezed nor am I diseased and to be truthful
I am just an innocent at dawn and dusk I repent
My every sin be it of commission or omission
If life had gone as planned I would assume the position
Of senior pastor of some German Lutheran parish

But that along with all the a cappella I cherish
Is water over the dam approaching fifty I am
A graceful and balletic metrosexual poet
I present myself clean-shaven tinted strawberry-blonde
A sonneteer who knows no fear of Silke madly fond
Asperity austerity but some prosperity
A company called Silke LLC you may know it
Google me and you will see my unfolding destiny

I was raised by my mother who taught me to be gentle
Courtesy and civility would seem fundamental
Much more elegant than the Taliban morality
Of that scary quite disturbing red-state plurality
With Bush and push and shove above well-mannered decency
While you might not agree I find it charming to be me

- - -

New Year's Eve Birthday Resolution at Fifty

To those who have suffered bitterness can
Prove to be the stone by which we stumble
Undoing all we work for taking all
We have loved and built however humble
The rock by which we ultimately fall
It has destroyed many a stronger man
Than me to see it suck the life away
From those whom I have loved the light of day
Gone out from their eyes the sun from their skies
Bitterness their undoing in the end
Has spoken to me that this must not be
The ruin of the rising of our dreams

There must be hope in sorrow though it seems
These wings are broken now yet we must rise

Suicide has taken many a friend
This horror would not have happened unless
We had been overpowered in the dark
Alone at the crossroads of bitterness
Where shadows of grief are so sharp so stark
Burning alone in the crucible of
Suffering with no light no hope no love
Turning to stone there with no one to care
Where it is always night and never day
Alone on the telephone it has been there
Waiting in the silence to bear us away
At the existential moment of despair

Therefore now as I mark a half a century
I resolve I must leave bitterness behind
I dare not let it hollow out my trust
I care not for corrosion nor for rust
By which bitterness would eat away my mind
To rot out from the inside is no destiny

- - -

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 9, 2004, 6:21 pm

Tauwetter / Thaw

for Silke

The sun has returned
It is bright today
I see it has burned
The cold clouds away

A creature of night
I cannot explain
As drawn by the light
I cannot refrain
From daring to venture outside myself
From taking myself off my dusty shelf

Nobody cares but I have an announcement
To no one in particular I say
From my front porch I proclaim the pronouncement
I am going to go outside today

Who is that madman? And what does he shout?
(It looks so inviting)
What in the world is he shouting about?
(It feels so exciting)
Somebody dares to attempt a breakout
Nobody cares but I AM COMING OUT

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 9, 2004, 2:41 am

Green for Envy Red for Blood

Wary Christmas

Do not tell me my father is a hero
My mother had to play his game
The sum of what I got from him is zero
She fought so I could have his name

My father beat my mother
Until she was broken
I know because
She always was

Sweet beautiful mommy I have tried
To avenge your honor since you died

Later he killed my brother
A secret unspoken
But I found out
There is no doubt

How I wish I could have known you Scott
I have never been and you were not

And then there is my Uncle Jack
Who made my life a nightmare
Growing up here in hell

This is why I do not care
For Christmas for it takes me back
To what I know so well

Silent night
Smell of death
On his breath
Nightmare night

How it hurts to write all this
I struggle to forget
Searching for the light in this
Dark lifetime of regret
Would I could make right all this

Bereft with what is left of me to be
Leaving hopeless known for hope unknown
To be with Silke now and destiny
For the first time I am not alone

Silent night
Nightmare night

Green for envy red for blood
Oh well
Christmas in my neighborhood
Of hell

Wary Christmas to all and to all a good night
Green for envy red for blood
I will sleep till tomorrow puts out your false light
Never to be understood

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 8, 2004, 4:07 pm

Transcendental Sonnet #1166:

What shall we do then
Since we cannot run away?
What shall we say when
There is nothing left to say?

Packing bombs and loading weapons in the dark
I have seen death swimming like a great white shark

Blood in the water
And smoke in the sky
Two sons a daughter
And too young to die

God save the Queen God save us all
Do I still have the gift you gave
And will you catch me when I fall?
Am I a fool or am I brave?

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 8, 2004, 5:15 am

Transcendental Sonnet #1165:
Cosmic Dance

Is life meaningless or are its meanings hidden
Lying undiscovered to surprise unbidden
Unexpected the elected thought rejected?
It can be a strange and dangerous survival
Incomprehensible but not insensible

Questions are answered unannounced their arrival
Seems unrelated to external circumstance
Yet informed by cryptic logic greater than chance
Then is it arbitrary or by its very
Nature an inscrutably-patterned cosmic dance?

The more impassioned the more fashioned the debate
The clearer the characteristic seems to me
That there is no hurrying nor worrying fate
That the only strategy is simply to be

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 7, 2004, 5:53 pm

Friends and fellow poets:

I have not disappeared entirely from BrainMeta. But my new postings will be here now, on my own board, in this place I call "The Secret Place."

I hope those few of you who enjoyed my work over the years will stop by--climb up into this treehouse of mine--and pay me a visit now and then, that we might share again as once we did, up there on the big boards back in better days.

Please also visit me at AuthorsDen, at this link:


Kevin Reese has me helping him out on a new poetry site he has founded, which he calls "The Poet House," as well. I came to the conclusion that moderating just wasn't my "thing" after enduring unrelenting abuse for two years here, in this place which I built only to realize too late that I had built my own hell. So I am extremely wary of moderating, but Kevin assures me that I will be spared the sort of indignities which drove me away from this house I built of love destroyed by hate. I hesitate to give the address of the new site, lest cruel ones follow me there, but, what the hell, here goes:


I had given that address before elsewhere upon these pages, and that relentless stalker who always enjoyed calling me a "twit" so much made quite a splash of most unwelcome welcome over there, causing me to withdraw and sending Kevin into a panic, leaving him in the lurch. He asked me very earnestly, so I--with great reluctance--returned there, but with one eye and one hand upon the door. It seems like maybe it could be a nice place someday. But then I thought the same of this place once.

Thank you for the past two years; from the beginning to the end and all between, it was my life, the labor of my love.

All my love to all... and so, good night.

I'll meet you here in The Secret Place, just you and me and poetry alone.

+Steven Curtis Lance ASCAP
Poet in Residence Emeritus, BrainMeta.com

Dec 7, 2004, 5:29 pm

Transcendental Sonnet #1164:

for Silke

The wind is wailing like a grieving mother
The aching anger of a lonely womb
It howls the hurt of an avenging brother
Who loads his pistol in a lonely room
The sound of separating flesh from bone

As stripped the trees which naked in the cold
Torn from a stale known to a fresh unknown
Are gripped as these my bones tonight are told
By chill for which there is no remedy

Save one thing only that propinquity
Of you and me to kindle in the dark
A flame fueled by our dream by our desire
Our blue star flickers but a tiny spark
Now rends the sky descends to us in fire

+Steven Curtis Lance


Copyright MMIV Silke LLC


Dec 7, 2004, 4:28 am

Transcendental Sonnet #1163:
This Moment

for Silke

I know that there is no one knows
My little yellow rose
Not as I do

From always to the crack of doom
I tend her bud to bloom
Faithful and true

This fairest rosebud ever known
Will never bloom alone
But mine for through
The miracle love makes of life
I take her now to wife
She takes me too

This moment when the fairest ever was or will be grows
This bud which is my Silke opens now my yellow rose

+Steven Curtis Lance


Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Thank you all for the past two years, from the beginning to the end.

You may visit me here, or at AuthorsDen:


All my love to all, and so good night.

Dec 6, 2004, 7:43 am

Sperm Donor

A lonely intellectual
Lived on the Internet
He felt so ineffectual
Although so gifted yet
He felt that he had lost his way

Living in his parents' guest room
Hanging out in the park each day
Lurking in the public rest room
What was he living for?
He wondered as he drooled at magazines

There must be something more

He thought and sought and fought to find
The answer when he felt within his jeans
A way in which to use his mind:
The seeds of greatness lay between his legs!
And that's how a loner
Became a sperm donor

That some would pay to fertilize their eggs
Seemed obvious to him his confidence
Was greater than his outward reticence
Would ever allow

So he wondered how
To maximize this opportunity
To serve mankind through sexuality
But it worked out somehow
He's sure doing it now

And here's what he sings as his ding-dong dings
A little song I'm pleased to pass along:

Sperm donor
Sowing with a smile
My boner
Seeding them in style

I'm a brilliant-child maker
Perhaps a record-breaker
When ladies start showing
That's when things are going
My way

Sperm struggling sturdily upstream
And each one bears the dream
That they
Will be zygotes someday
After the same biological end
As you and me my cock-a-doodle friend

Lending our aid
As I lend my hand
We've got it made
Isn't science grand?

Mom and Dad I've found my niche at last don't you see?
I'm a sex machine sperm donor: little old me!

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 6, 2004, 5:48 am

Transcendental Sonnet #1162:
The Downfall of the Don

When I was a skinny little kid
There was a fat bully named Don
His last name was McCool I recall
And I was the one he picked on
Yet all his aggression never hid
That McCool was not cool at all

He wanted to be like his brother
They say who had been sent away
To prison his father and mother
Not there anywhere did not care
About Don everyone used to say

Well he charged me like a rhino on the last day of school
In fourth grade we were alone but I was nobody's fool
Took off my coat and knocked him flat: that was the end of that

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Dec 5, 2004, 9:06 am

Transcendental Sonnet #1161:
Good Night

Alone in the night
With empty eyes
I look for my light
Searching dark skies

But it is gone

My star has gone out
I am alone
With no voice to shout
And none to hear

Alone with my doubt
Alone with fear
Gnawing hungrily
On what is left of me

Star light star bright good night

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Sep 4, 2004, 7:04 am

Transcendental Sonnet #966:
Having Some Fun With Your Dick!

Dick Cheney and his big round head
Which always rolls off to one side
Is evil yet seems good instead
To those whose brains have cracked and dried
For want of use for the abuse
Of having been told what to think

Not smelling the unholy stink
Of Halliburton in the air
Which follows Cheney everywhere
Nor knowing he has gone to bed
With all the biggest crooks on earth

If four more years let me be dead
Before that big round head's bionic birth
Into its true Darth Vader-hood for good

*~ ( + ) ~*

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Sep 2, 2004, 3:53 am

Transcendental Sonnet #960:
Where Dreams Begin

for Silke

You and me in a field of clover
Silke that is where I want to be
Embracing as the clouds drift over
You and me happy and safe and free

Cradled in sweet clover watching clouds
You and me to see what we can see
Liberated from the dark which crowds
In the shadows of the waking mind
Daydreaming we leave them all behind

As magic hours bloom into magic days
I kiss your closed eyes as your lashes brush
My lips so eager for your tender skin
And as I softly weep you tell me "hush...
This is reality where dreams begin"

*~ ( + ) ~*

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

Aug 30, 2004, 12:36 pm

Transcendental Sonnet #949:
Dubya d*ck and Me Do Not Make Three
(Nepotismus Nonelectus in New York)

If to be het'rosexual
Is to be like George Bush
Or even worse like Cheney's d*ck
Which thought makes me quite sick
I'm glad I'm metrosexual
And heaven knows I'll push
My hardest to defend the arched eyebrow

These are the scariest of times just now
When they could be the merriest!
Why cannot one be gay
And merely be some happy chappy such as I
Who cry when hearing Robert Smith sing "Boys Don't Cry"?

Dear Dubya don't worry for I am quite straight
But I fear for you and d*ck it's just too late

*~ ( + ) ~*

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC


Displaying Poems 2776 thru 2799 of 2799 Poems

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