We were mid-way through some kind of quest,
when my nasal hairs grew coarse,
and though t'was still faraway,
I heard a drum's rat-tat.
...
I met a German woman,
her English better than my French,
but we never made our rendezvous,
what a waste of time.
...
They walk as in a summer's breeze,
now linked by their shared futures,
feigning joy in path-side blooms,
who's perfume guides their way.
...
In his dotage, Andy Warhol -
often wore white training shoes -
there's footage of him in New York,
scavenging for cookie jars.
...
There are no accidents in space,
each meteor is contained,
coincidence, a trick of the light,
laboratory conditions prevail.
...
I had new sandals, and wore them to school,
cherry-red uppers with a cream-white sole,
her dress had a pattern like a Spirograph's -
of the same coffee colour I has in my pen.
...
Up until 1990 I tried writing lyrics, but in 1990 things changed, I got involved in poetry. First just writing it, then reading it as well. I think it may have been around 2000 that I really felt confident that poetry was as good a media as any.)
Thinking Of You
In the service station,
behind the bleeping till,
your smile - a tree in blossom,
has made me feel quite ill.
Steven David's poems are brilliant. Read them!