stephen-norton - Hello Poetry

A crooked shiv pierces the wall Oxidized from blood and rain Bits of photons come pouring in Memories lost and unfelt pain A million unwelcome visitors crowd the mind Let in by the monster waiting inside The collector of consciousness subdued Reminds us that the debt is due A flash of awkwardness Public shame Betrayal Hands, despite resistance Sleep paralysis A succubus Force Drained of what they wanted Tossed aside like garbage The collector has been silent for so long He is never truly gone The taxman has come

0

Mar 25

Mar 25, 2026 at 9:49 AM UTC

stephen-norton

Trauma Center

A crooked shiv pierces the wall Oxidized from blood and rain Bits of photons come pouring in Memories lost and unfelt pain A million unwelcome visitors crowd the mind Let in by the monster waiting inside The collector of consciousness subdued Reminds us that the debt is due A flash of awkwardness Public shame Betrayal Hands, despite resistance Sleep paralysis A succubus Force Drained of what they wanted Tossed aside like garbage The collector has been silent for so long He is never truly gone The taxman has come

20

I point the finger With all the labor to lift it Always outward Never in My pupils burn Give me justice soon The accusation is flagellation Bow and beg Temper my rage My Seraph stare You're the problem

0

Jan 31

Jan 31, 2026 at 11:50 PM UTC

stephen-norton

The guilty

I point the finger With all the labor to lift it Always outward Never in My pupils burn Give me justice soon The accusation is flagellation Bow and beg Temper my rage My Seraph stare You're the problem

11

Shattered glass returns to quartz and coral Human cries caught up in gusts, settle on dunes Iron rich and red Those aren't mothers holding children They were Now bits and bytes for consumption So long as the horror ends in under 90 seconds This is how we doom scroll Secondhand suffering Visual colonists Unwilling donors Thank God you're here It's time to cleanse your feed

0

Dec 25, 2025

Dec 25, 2025 at 8:46 PM UTC

stephen-norton

A Free People

Shattered glass returns to quartz and coral Human cries caught up in gusts, settle on dunes Iron rich and red Those aren't mothers holding children They were Now bits and bytes for consumption So long as the horror ends in under 90 seconds This is how we doom scroll Secondhand suffering Visual colonists Unwilling donors Thank God you're here It's time to cleanse your feed

13

In some forgotten quadrant of the wood, The Monarch Oak holds solitary throne. A green colossus over splintered kin, A lush green tower amongst a barren cemetery. He claims the bedrock's yield, the deep decree: "This bounty is the tribute owed to Me." He draws the final drop, the closing sun, The very richness that his growth has outrun. It was not always so— Before his many rings, Before his bark became cavernous. He was a promise in a simple shell, The acorn cradled where the good things dwell. A sapling nursed by shared and easy light, An unassuming heir to forest heights. The sprout ascended to that vibrant hum; The loam was deep, the canopy was wide— A balanced contract where all things abide. The birds sang loud, the ants kept busy trails, And life drank deep from open, generous wells. But the contract frayed beneath his stretch of years; The quiet giving turned to grasping fears. His tender branches scaled to claim the height, He drank the luxury, he stole the light. His skin grew hard, a fortress soon defined, And in that strength, he left the world behind. Then came the rings that marked a different age, When other sprouts began to turn a page. The budlings rose, ambitious, small, and new, But found the promised bounty, untrue. They felt the drought his massive shadow cast, The wealth he claimed, too powerful to last. They whispered low, a sapling chorus strained: "The shade is deep, the summer sun is drained! What keeps you grand while we can barely root?" The King Oak spread a crown of bitter fruit, And boomed his answer to the barren ground, No echo of sharing could be found: "Don't look at me Blame the invasive species." He reigns supreme, a monument of greed, A lonely giant planted from a single seed. He will not thin his shadow, bend his reach; His conquest is the only law they teach. The younger trees, too starved to rise or fight, Are shadows clinging to the edge of light.

0

Dec 25, 2025

Dec 25, 2025 at 8:45 PM UTC

stephen-norton

The King Oak

In some forgotten quadrant of the wood, The Monarch Oak holds solitary throne. A green colossus over splintered kin, A lush green tower amongst a barren cemetery. He claims the bedrock's yield, the deep decree: "This bounty is the tribute owed to Me." He draws the final drop, the closing sun, The very richness that his growth has outrun. It was not always so— Before his many rings, Before his bark became cavernous. He was a promise in a simple shell, The acorn cradled where the good things dwell. A sapling nursed by shared and easy light, An unassuming heir to forest heights. The sprout ascended to that vibrant hum; The loam was deep, the canopy was wide— A balanced contract where all things abide. The birds sang loud, the ants kept busy trails, And life drank deep from open, generous wells. But the contract frayed beneath his stretch of years; The quiet giving turned to grasping fears. His tender branches scaled to claim the height, He drank the luxury, he stole the light. His skin grew hard, a fortress soon defined, And in that strength, he left the world behind. Then came the rings that marked a different age, When other sprouts began to turn a page. The budlings rose, ambitious, small, and new, But found the promised bounty, untrue. They felt the drought his massive shadow cast, The wealth he claimed, too powerful to last. They whispered low, a sapling chorus strained: "The shade is deep, the summer sun is drained! What keeps you grand while we can barely root?" The King Oak spread a crown of bitter fruit, And boomed his answer to the barren ground, No echo of sharing could be found: "Don't look at me Blame the invasive species." He reigns supreme, a monument of greed, A lonely giant planted from a single seed. He will not thin his shadow, bend his reach; His conquest is the only law they teach. The younger trees, too starved to rise or fight, Are shadows clinging to the edge of light.

46

Another year Another fear My mind closer to perfection My body falls apart Atrophy and enlightenment The heart pumps The brain stumbles Knowledgeable Fallable My fragile home

0

May 18, 2023

May 18, 2023 at 10:20 PM UTC

stephen-norton

Routine

Another year Another fear My mind closer to perfection My body falls apart Atrophy and enlightenment The heart pumps The brain stumbles Knowledgeable Fallable My fragile home

10

How dare you intrude on my heart No warning, no progress, no way to start Unwanted, forceful, unable to stop You creep up slowly, with venomous eyes I'm poisoned, your victim, leeching life A word is a cure A touch holds me over Uncertainty is my lover So certain I am My fears given life

0

Sep 6, 2021

Sep 6, 2021 at 2:21 AM UTC

stephen-norton

Poison

How dare you intrude on my heart No warning, no progress, no way to start Unwanted, forceful, unable to stop You creep up slowly, with venomous eyes I'm poisoned, your victim, leeching life A word is a cure A touch holds me over Uncertainty is my lover So certain I am My fears given life

10

Old man Jack slowly sips his life away The same old worn out bar top Swallows his lager with hate The cracked protruding pavement Walking home, dim lights guiding the way To an empty apartment A studio in disarray Blame the ex wife Blame the immgrants But Jack will never change Alcohol can make you tough It's the American way Living in dystopia Living the American dream Reality can be sobering Loneliness is king While the cities flood The homeless drown Technically distracted People move on Species die But my iPhone recharges Quiet ignorance Evolutionary ******** The bones rot out from our faces While we Socially isolate Surface level understanding Swallowed by earthquakes The billion dollar stare The American way Living is dystopia Living the American dream Digitally dehumanized Loneliness is king Ignore the other Reject your mother Poison your brother Together we suffer Fat, sick and dying Cull the black sheep Genius is weak It's the American way Living in hell Living in the modern world Wealthy, mentally castrated, and high Popping pills to stay alive America on life support While the whole world dies

0

Jul 19, 2021

Jul 19, 2021 at 10:14 PM UTC

stephen-norton

America

Old man Jack slowly sips his life away The same old worn out bar top Swallows his lager with hate The cracked protruding pavement Walking home, dim lights guiding the way To an empty apartment A studio in disarray Blame the ex wife Blame the immgrants But Jack will never change Alcohol can make you tough It's the American way Living in dystopia Living the American dream Reality can be sobering Loneliness is king While the cities flood The homeless drown Technically distracted People move on Species die But my iPhone recharges Quiet ignorance Evolutionary ******** The bones rot out from our faces While we Socially isolate Surface level understanding Swallowed by earthquakes The billion dollar stare The American way Living is dystopia Living the American dream Digitally dehumanized Loneliness is king Ignore the other Reject your mother Poison your brother Together we suffer Fat, sick and dying Cull the black sheep Genius is weak It's the American way Living in hell Living in the modern world Wealthy, mentally castrated, and high Popping pills to stay alive America on life support While the whole world dies

48

The exploration of the woods decreases as the artists perfect their virtual ones From the couch, consume a million adventures without ever stepping a stone Evil defeated Dopamine Depleted Enjoy the glory all alone The birds and bees cease to be No eyes outside No care if nest or hive empty Just plastic archeology Bare bones and silcone Til the last leaf falls from the tree

0

May 14, 2021

May 14, 2021 at 10:47 PM UTC

stephen-norton

Legacy

The exploration of the woods decreases as the artists perfect their virtual ones From the couch, consume a million adventures without ever stepping a stone Evil defeated Dopamine Depleted Enjoy the glory all alone The birds and bees cease to be No eyes outside No care if nest or hive empty Just plastic archeology Bare bones and silcone Til the last leaf falls from the tree

11

My art is dead Void of life Impassionate Do not support this It's lazy Lathargic Empty

0

Apr 16, 2021

Apr 16, 2021 at 11:15 PM UTC