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Steve D'Beard Sep 2014
the back and forth trajectories
the internal out-of-sync in-sync directories
of treasured moments, of pleasantries
and the reviled relived accessories of treachery.

My memory is pitted with chasms like Swiss Cheese
the phantom dreams of being hit by a car in a winters bite
the realities of unconsciousness and brain spasms
the fathoms baffles in batches and waves of breaches
disfigured features like a frosted window caked in creatures
burrowed and riddled like a parasite in the spite of night.

By the time id got to hospital id forgotten my own name
fortunately I had a gas bill in my pocket which hadn't freed itself
while being violently hurled over the red car bonnet
and it became the one and only evidence that I even existed
even though the A & E nurse insisted and persisted on asking questions:
my address, date of birth, blood type, emergency contact -
like Id have it tattooed on my body like a scene from Memento
amid the voices in crescendo and brain-damage thumping techno.

That was a few years ago, or was it, I couldn't be sure now
but some days I forget what I did in the morning
so I just have to live for the moment somehow
the memories like Swiss Cheese constantly morphing
to the piped tune of the cerebral banshee
buzzing in my left ear like a perpetual honey bee
makes me wonder though;

I am lactose and diary free - the dominant dietary preponderant
some modernistic conglomerate causing ultimate lethargy.
Does this mean if recollections are like Swiss Cheese
I am intolerant to memories?
I use poetry like post-it-note reminders before I forget who I am forever
Steve D'Beard Sep 2014
Black Space
(eyes without a face)
Poverty lingers
like an ill gotten taste
giving up her secrets to no man;
teaching lessons in life
at every turn.

Poverty taught me to be frugal
how to beg, borrow or steal
live on £1 a day to eat once a day
the truthful instinctual perusal
the unreal zeal
blocking the thoughts of hunger
the puerile senses;
the basics on how to feel.

In the near dark I found you
sheltering from the storm
under the bridge just like I was
wrapped in mottled harsh cloth
sitting on cardboard for warmth.

You spoke many languages
had a degree in anthropology
and a penchant for gambling
and alcohol;
we shared a bowl
of disregarded noodles
in the rain.
Steve D'Beard Aug 2014
We have bulldozed the Garden of Eden;
we are nothing more than a parasite with an unending appetite
for destruction in the name of civilization.

Our monstrous monumental achievements can be viewed from space;
we are the cataclysmic legion, the unbeaten ******, the demon of freedom
with the desire to demolish and impoverish the last bastion arboretum.

We are mad and frenzied in our passion;
we are the phantasm assassin choking the very lungs we use to breathe
the misanthrope who carves materialistic thrones to sit on and wait for exalted death while we replant trees in self-centered glorification of hope.

We are doomed and we know it, but we still don't care;
we question science and bemoan nature for wreaking havoc, stare into the microscope looking for answers in the reverent appliance of defiance waiting to find the sparks to eternal life there.

We are the envy, the mistrust, the sadist and the snake;
we squabble over the scraps of apple peel and douse ourselves in ice cubes
whilst far away some African child walks 50 miles for a sip of clean water
we are the plague of mistakes broadcasting hurricanes to entertain.

We have bulldozed The Garden of Eden
now only the snake remains and there is no escape
freely offering the apple peel to those who obligingly accept

our epitaph will read:
humanity stepped back
to be overshadowed by an ape.
We cut down the forests, we fill our seas with plastics and oil, we release harmful gases into the air, we deplete the ozone layer, we ignore climate change and fresh clean water will be a commodity in 50 years.
Steve D'Beard Aug 2014
You were my rock
my shoulder boulder
eroded over time by mental health
that crept into the room by stealth
but remember all we talked about
you were the foundation
the building blocks
the "we can do this".

Navigate the spell of despair
bear the insignia with pride
dispel and expel the mental scars to bare
we were a team dude
you were my rock in the storm
we were shorn from the same cloth
you and I.

Never ones to shelter from the thunderstorm
arms outwards, dancing in hedonistic pleasure
revel in the present and like Leftfield said:
Release The Pressure.

We were Gods mate, legends in our own time
I am left to decipher why man why
you felt so alone you couldn't reach out
to family, to a friend and have a good cry;
I would've held you mate
like you held me that day.

I had a call from an unknown number
I picked it up in random wonder
to be told your body was found this morning
attached to a home-made rope
feet in shadow by your painted awning
utterly gutted
my brain waves disrupted
that my Sifu, my Teacher, My Friend
life was suddenly spent.

I just sent a letter of poems
for you to read with my consent.

I feel lost.
I feel broken.
The demons we talked about
I've kept them in control
now out of control
the devils have awoken.

You were my friend
like a brother
from another mother

I am left to wonder
where are you now
but know now that your pain has ceased
there will always be a jigsaw piece
of the blue sky missing;
go with God my friend
and forever rest in peace.
R.I.P. David - lost but never forgotten
Steve D'Beard Jul 2014
Beneath the cities phantoms
lie the beating heart of good people;
reaching outwards from shadow.

In the dying moonlight
an out of tune piano plays its last note;
warped by water over time.

In the close darkness
faces fade emitting anguish;
I wish I could find the missing piece.

That one remaining jigsaw
the puzzle would be complete;
and in it, I would be whole.

One last time.
Steve D'Beard Jul 2014
Feel breath upon milky neck
give yourself
the sacrifice
for unchained paradise
and the gifts of life.

Thrusting forth upon such shapely form
the rise of golden **** and the
glide of swollen *******
such feline majesty
such magnificence of deviance.

Lay hands on nubile skin
deft and swift precision
straddled in muscular passion
the reins like a flowing mane
gracing the arched spine in pleasure.

Tilted head stretched
exposed form
catching dancing shadows
in the eternal midnight.

Call my name
as if a name
were a pulse wave
of unreserved expletives.

The chastity of yesterday
innocence lost in devilry
offered freely
like a gift to the gods
empower revelry

****** Deeper
Give Give Give
again and again and again and again and again and again and...

No refrain
awash in pagan sweat
doused and dripping wet
revel in cobalt aquas
close in the rise
of final exaltation
the Alpha stanza.

BOP/bop BOP/bop
hearts beat out of time
heaving breath
encased in bone and heated skin
consumed in the juices of forever
and the pleasure of
pagan archaic sin.
restructure and minor rewrite of this poem orig posted in January
Steve D'Beard Jul 2014
In the distant lands of forever
misted light seeps beyond line of sight
where gulls circle above the ocean squall
lies the dream of ethereal treasure
drifting in and out of dancing firelight.

Within the lush and precious emerald reaches
fly majestic golden hummingbirds
graced in flight off untouched white sand beaches
shadows stand tall in the eye of a lonesome moon
and in its fleeting ephemeral decree
couple wine with unspoken wise words
and see them better received.

In the Eleusinian dreams of men
gather the cornucopia of breath
nourish oneself in the last passing of days
grasp firm the righteous omen
and embrace the rituals within thy beating breast.

See glowing amber give flames to creation
revel in the pagan shamanism
rise above the mortal coil of chains
craft a celebration
and in the haze of hedonism
dance naked in the summer rain.
poem from dreams
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