Avid Writer/Student/Waiter. I have lived in New York City for the past five years. Though, Buffalo is home. I study Liberal Arts now in Kingsborough Community College in Brooklyn. I will be studying History at the University at Buffalo next term, with hopes to attend their School of Law thereafter. more »
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Steven Rodgers Poems
In A Crowded Room
When the clock stops ticking, Drum beats cease to pound, And the dance floor empties, One cannot hear a sound,
Some say it is the simple things, In life that count the most, To share a moment with one friend, Instead of with a host,
Keep Her Safe
Of the bold and brave that legends tell, The heroes of an age, Of soldiers fought and fared so well, Whose stories stole the stage,
Two Little Munchkins
Each of both in likeness finds, The other side, the other shoe, The other one in kindness shines, The first is tossed, the second booed,
Goodbye, Farewell, Adieu
To so longs and farewells, To goodbye and adieu, To saying this a million times, And in saying it to you.
Forever Is Not So long
Do not hope, for hope's sake, Or dream to steal away, The harshness of reality, The cruelness of a day.
The Day's Plans Go Awry
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in, The day's plans go awry, It's wet out there, the rain rolls in, The tears that God must cry.
Troubled Times And Troubled Souls
Troubled minds and troubled souls, In troubled times as far as troubled goes. There they are to be or not, And there they'll remain.
The Bluejay's Song
Upon the cusp of light and dark, good and evil, night and day. The carefree notes drift down from the lone bluejay. Is it a tune sorrow? Bespeaking compassion and heartache for the damage wrought by the passing dark. Perhaps one of hope, eternal hope in the promise of the rising sun. Not this jay. This jay in night and day sings only of love
At The Advent of a Dream
At the advent of a dream, Ripped from pages of the glow, The rapture of the angel beam, Sent to warm the hearts below.
Wisdom Of The Old
They say youth is wasted on the young, I say wisdom on the old, They say courage is wasted on the weak, I think strength is on the bold,
Forboded call, Not always though, Oft the yearning, Seperate from the soul,
The Gilded Seat
The gilded seat on high, With decor of satin love, Dressed, glorifies the dream, Upon the tender breast,
Just Rest My Dear
Just rest my dear, Let all your woes, And worries go, Settle on a finer thought,
Comments about Steven Rodgers
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
In A Crowded Room
When the clock stops ticking,
Drum beats cease to pound,
And the dance floor empties,
One cannot hear a sound,
It is in that moment when,
Eyes locked in fervent gaze,
One fears to pose the question,
Is this, all of it a daze?
Hands melt together,
A heat unchecked by rain,
And pools of honey clog,
The forbidden passion drain,
The question asked again,
The answer now is clear,
Two hearts become one,
And beat forever near.