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1.2k · Jan 2017
Tongues Tied
Steven L Herring Jan 2017
Sharp words shouldn't be spoken
Nobody's perfect
When everything comes out broken
Choking on every syllable
Soaking up every last "I'm sorry"
like a sponge that's full already
Steady, aim, fire another round across his bow
Give her another volley of misunderstanding champ,
because your fowling out over fences topped with razor wire

Sometimes a simple smile seems better
Than a string of wrong words that leave your mouth bitter
Sometimes still tongues touch more hearts
and wagging ones turn burnt ears into quitters
Sometimes stepping out's better

Why stick around and frown?
Why let it all bring you down?
Needle and thread your squack box
Turn keys on locks
And give it up, will ya?!
Try it again tomorrow
There'd be a whole lot less sorrow....
912 · Mar 2021
But What are You?
Steven L Herring Mar 2021
By Steven L Herring

If I were a poet,
I'd be damaged goods
and all the world would whisper
as I sought beauty in the woods

If I were a poet,
a peculiar one I'd be
Robust in every single way
morning, noon, and end of day
all I am is me

If I were a poet,
an oddity in fact,
I'd start my days with gasoline
and the brightness of a match

If I were a poet,
I'd bleed on every page
Silence,
sadness,
laughter,
love;
crescendoing in rage

I am a poet!
A wordsmith if you will
But even if you won't,
a poet I am still!
843 · Feb 2017
A Traveler's Journey Ends
Steven L Herring Feb 2017
There's no light here
This side of the moon is dark and cold
No one to save you
No ansible to broadcast your dismay home

Dead, dry eyes
and dark circles
underlying years of sleepless nights
accented with coffee stained teeth

Everybody dies
Nobody lives forever,
and everybody lies
a little, but some are more clever

With western eyes in a leathery skin,
we drag ourselves on over the bodies
over the broken souls
of victim and predator akin

But take heart, my friend!
It's not so dreary as it appears
Substitute sadness for independence
and confidently embrace the end.

There's no light at the end of this tunnel,
but take heart!
Embark on your final journey traveler!
There never was a tunnel to begin with
774 · Aug 2016
What is Poetry?
Steven L Herring Aug 2016
Poetry is the devil on your shoulder
who shot the angel by your left foot
and crushed its body underneath a boulder

Poetry is a cold blade against hot skin
it screams for BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD
when all you want to do is surrender

Poetry isn't love
it's violence
it's the tourniquet,
the ******,
the flash,
the sleep,
and the cold silence

Poetry is the lust you can't escape from
when you couldn't keep your hands off
each other;
when you woke up alone in an empty bed
and a cold spot on the pillow right beside you

Poetry isn't cute or sweet or pretty
She's tattooed with black hair and a whip
and leaves you heart broken, cold, and begging for
one
more
sip

What is poetry?
Trust me, you don't want to know her
She'll leave you standing in a median begging for change
while your friends stare at you sideways
and talk about you behind closed doors.

I wish that ***** would leave me
I wish she'd never left me
Baby!  Please don't ever leave me again...
670 · Sep 2016
Words
Steven L Herring Sep 2016
Take your insides and tie them in knots
Rotted guts
Spoiled and pungent
Repugnant and bitter

Forget focus on good things
Spend your time and energy on another's opinion
Empty air
Wasted time
Fading light

Hot syllables should fall to the ground
in cold air
But people still stop and stare
Mouths agape
Faces contorted
Focus gone

These words control us
Manipulate and rob us
Tie us down
Chained and bonded
Won't let go

Let it go man.
I know they hurt you
I know
you have to let it go
Chains crumbling from rust
No more mistrust
Eyes lightening
Shoulders unburdened

Joy restored to those who realize
that they are just words
Nobody's bleeding
Nobody's broken
Stand up
Dust off
Walk away
Untouched
And
Alive

Let the bitter ones who speak unkind
Die in a heap of bones and blood
Lonely
Friendless
And fallen behind the rest of us.

Moving on....
We can't advance when we're focused on what people say about us.  It's our actions that define us...
Steven L Herring Oct 2017
This rock
Spinning in its orbit around God
With oceans full of souls
And souls full of
wishes,
wants,
and whispers
so shallow like a baby's breath.

I've toiled and fought
and loved
and lusted
and lived seething secretly
in a seemingly impenetrable fog
and once the sun came out
the secrets were all gone but not forgotten

They were carved into stone
and torn into the flesh of me
And while I sat
stuttering
and muttering
in a drunken mess,
the sun came out once more upon this rock
and showed the perfect skin
was nothing more than old leather
cracked and craggy and full of holes
So many holes that my rib fell out and tumbled away.

There I sat upon this rock
with God and sun and sorrow
There I lay dying with a wet face
and the belief that there really was no tomorrow,
yet a spark was still in me somehow
Or perhaps it was just a soothing thought
that gave me a sense of peace even if just for now
that even though my fate seemed bought
there were still more lessons I would be taught
and more things for me to do while dying.
577 · Oct 2016
Ankou
Steven L Herring Oct 2016
A warmed up tube and a sweaty board
Slippery steel sloppily chattering
underneath my finger tips
The space is dank and hot and my ears are ringing

We've been over this a hundred times
What's one more
Or four more
Homeboy forgot his lines

A cigarette hangs from my lips
and the sweat constantly drips
My shirt is soaked
Brain probably fried from all the **** I smoked

But none of that matters
There's three new songs to get down
We gotta tighten that **** up
Get it all packaged neat for the rowdy crowd

I wonder if I was the only one in the room worried
Probably
All that went away as soon as we broke in
Properly

The song
The set
Free *****
Gallons of sweat

Memories that I could never forget....
561 · Nov 2017
Socially Charged Bankruptcy
Steven L Herring Nov 2017
Welcome to Facebook, friends!
Table or booth?
If you'd like, you can belly up to the bar
and drink til your drunk
There's nobody here to cut you off
when you've had too much

Today's specials include
****** politics
out and out lies
misquoted so called experts
one sided arguments
ever-growing divisiveness
and unnecessarily spilled guts
with cat videos for dessert

Shall I start you off with
today's appetizer special?
We have fried butthurtedness
with a special guilt dip.
think about it, and I'll be back

We're ready to order sir.
We'll have the all you can eat buffet.
Keep the plates coming thanks!
558 · Feb 2017
Dragons
Steven L Herring Feb 2017
Stacked smoke billowing to the sky
Mixing
Mingling
Mugging moisture from the air
and raining down into the streets below.

We tread upon it unconsciously
Care corrupted by a deadline
from some place we must be,
so into the gutters it doth flee
flowing just beneath
and into the sea
and into the ground

The animals drink it
The plants tortured turgor broken backs with it
Packeged in pools
Sent through pipes to me
and to you

We drink the dragons breath
Drunk on power
Pitiless to the plight of the flower
Breathing sulfuric steam
Green to yellow
Yellow to brown to gray to black

We started to take it back,
but the power
The lust for more
The trust in ****** and swindles and crooks
brought back by cornered mouths hooked.

Green could be life,
but green is now greed
and we are but claws
on the feet of scaled beasts
I wrote this for our Mother Earth
Steven L Herring Dec 2018
Let a Lonely Mountain Lie Empty
By Steven L Herring

Balled fists
Murky nights
and days full of thunder
Skies full of clouds
Skull emptied out
onto the pavement
to a two piece cadence
in a half-life limped out in blunder

And still I sit here
Fist to chin
Stuck in an everlasting wonder
Where does a soul go
when its eyes burned with plunder?
I have yet a devil in me
no bigger than the devil in thee
as we pacify them
with random acts of mindlessness
every now and again

Perfection…
Tell me then
Is that not just another *******
stabbed coarsely in the eyes
of our future?
I got a Wheel Bar to die in
if I want to go out like that
**** yeah!

Small town USA
Nothing to do here
past poking an angry elk sliding by
and drown yourself in beer
or break an angry barstool
let a lonely mountain lie empty
and listen to a game of pool

But me?
I'd rather roll the dice
and live the humdrum life
I'd rather celebrate with pie
let sleeping drunks lie
and have some sleepless nights
than wake up
to a sink full of guilt
and a head full of last night's mystery
What a hubris of misery
it can turn out to be
Take it from me...
540 · May 2017
Irreverently Reverent
Steven L Herring May 2017
Ghosts walk these streets
The remnants of conflicts
of the past
Blood was spilled for soil
and the spoils
of war are baked beans
hotdogs
hamburgers
and coleslaw

The ghosts smile at the
peace,
passing through the streets
filled with the smell of
food and good times

These ghosts fought hard
and died well

Never let their egos swell
past the pins and medals fastened
to their chests

Never sat in judgement over
the mirth and laughter had
at their expense

Never reveled in boastful pride
or worried whether anyone
remembered why they died

But to be happy in their deaths
that the living could be
thankful
greatful
and speak kind words with their breaths

For judgement about how
someone spent a Sunday sulking
to the extent
of how history would affect
the macaroni and cheese
was for the living to worry about

A lot could be learned from a ghost
if we stilled our beating hearts to listen
if we let those be what they will be
and worry about me
instead of thee

Some light candles and say a prayer
Some light grills with no frills.
Some put their feet up and sleep
happy for the extra day off.

These ghosts smile similarly
upon all of them contentedly
happy to see
that they died a death of honor
so that we could live free.
508 · Mar 2017
Lowering Hieghts
Steven L Herring Mar 2017
Summitt
Tortured
Torched skin frosty with bite
Mind broken on a stance
I can't dance,
but dead can,
so I kicked it
Down
Down down
I drowned today in a frown
It was mine and I wore it

like a pro

I'm a little "g" God with a pencil
Stenciled out god
He's not Catholic
He's not Baptist
He's not Jewish
He's not Buddha,
Allah,
Or living in some Shanghai Shangri-la
He's a premonition
Just a figment
Of your imagination
a **** poor attempt to keep you from
your own ruination

God is dead
and no one cares
Man's attempt
to quiet contempt
for life's pains
Shhhhh! It's a secret!
It's not a race,
it's just humanity
It's a lie covered
by colored
skin
It's buried deep within
on a cellular level

The only escape from life is death
The only escape from death is cancer,
and cancer isn't winning any support
for its escape from programmed cell death,
soooooo...
450 · Aug 2016
The Fallacy of Silence
Steven L Herring Aug 2016
Sitting here in my living room
It's early
Kids slumbering in their beds
Wife's at work and dogs are at rest

I've got my coffee and my phone
The television is on, but muted
Other than the din of the freeway
And the gurgling from the coffee ***,
It would be completely quiet,
Except for my thoughts

Yes!
They're a freight train
Steaming
Streaming
Barreling down some unseen track in my mind

Sometimes they come to a crashing holt
When the house settles or a dog yawns
But then they start right back up
Without so much as a warning

They switch tracks and rewind
Second guess
And remind me of something I forgot
They're loud and obnoxious
They're unruly and cacophonous

They slow down
They speed up
Shifting
Swirling
Swiftly and softly moving through me
And then spilling out of me
Out of my mouth into the air
Or out of my fingers onto a screen

Sometimes I catch them before anyone sees
Sometimes I let them hang out for all to see
Sometimes I wish I could take them back
Cast them back into the dark pit they came from, but I rarely do

It's quiet in my living room...but it's never quite silent.
440 · Aug 2016
Leaning Wall
Steven L Herring Aug 2016
You're my rock even when you're crumbling.
When I'm stumbling and mumbling,
You pick me up,
Dust me off,
And lend me your voice for clarity.

It's a rarity for me to count costs without questioning,
Because I've got a head full of hostages, and
even when I let them out slowly
One at a time
To the firing line,
You help me blow out their candles.

You're crumbling,
But I got a shovel and a bucket to put you in.
I'll carry you til my hand hurts.
I'll carry you till my knuckles bleed.
I'll find that solid rock to place you on
And build you back up again.

See,
You don't get the luxury
Of melting away...
Not today
Not ever...
No way!

For you are my rock,
and I WILL build you back up again,
Because I love you,
And I promised you I would.
And that's a promise I plan on keeping
Even if it means the end of me,
Because I love you,
And that's what you mean to me.
To my wife...
435 · Feb 2017
Marching
Steven L Herring Feb 2017
I live in a glass house and throw
rock after rock til the shards cut through my veins
like warm, bitter butter
from all the soapbox prat falls,
kicks in the teeth,
and busted *****.

I get up after each one like
"**** is my cannon?!?!"
I wander the streets just
waiting for life to **** me
No ****
No condoms
Just a ****** *** buying *****
with wooden nickels and a brownish white stain on my pants.

Judge me, but do it harshly
Cuz I'm better at it than you are
and I'm gonna stab you
right in the eye
with this plank pulled directly from mine

Kettle's blacker than a couldron,
and I stir em both with a crooked *******
I stealthily stuck down my pants
for a stink palm
for an *******.

So don't hassle me with that
"don't judge me" *******.
That's life, and she makes Judy
look like a ******' church mouse
So get your glass house
in order
I'm bringing all my friends
and a dump truck full of rocks,
slingshots,
and bottle rockets.

We're moving boys to men tonight...


We're taking no prisoners to light...
Having a little fun with the notion that people don't like to be judged, even though they're usually the first people who do it, and with such great frequency too!
Steven L Herring Aug 2018
The air is crisp
and on the cusp of contrast
with our breath.
Leaves tell tales of sleep and dreams
and a temporary sort of death

Your hair and your eyes
and the way your hands
rest upon your thighs
make the corners of my mouth rise

You're quiet, calm collectedness
soothes me,
and when I can't see you
or hear your voice,
I panic and drop things

Basket case…
I know
Afraid to let these
feelings go

But it's down to the wire...
and I've wasted
so much precious time
quenching a fire
that could've made the sun look cold.
Should've never let love grow old

But if it's too late,
I'll sleep here
in this bed of my mistakes,
I'm getting old
and I'm running quickly out of slack to let
I'll happily hold on
to what you let me keep
and I'll take what I can get….
418 · Oct 2017
Dusk
Steven L Herring Oct 2017
Brightly colored sky
blinding kindly through a ***** windshield
Warm hands contrast the cool night air
Soft and soothing
Gently smoothing away all the rough edges of me

Driving into the sun and surf and quiet
The sleepy salty sand dunes cast dancing shadows
against an indian summer night
My melting mind is rarely quelled, but quiet tonight
A welcomed brake from a broken week

Smiles
laughs
and good company go well with friendly photos
A marsh bird flies and rolls the credits
while the others gather for the night's jovial laughter

But me?
I drive home alone
smiling still somehow with a sense of hope
that all will end well....
417 · Sep 2016
Voter Fraud
Steven L Herring Sep 2016
I don't need a lot
Just a small corner of you
Just a small room with a view
To all the stupid things you say and do

I've been judged my whole life
and I no longer care for what you think
about what I think
Your words are rotten and you're starting to stink

All that stupid **** that you spray
Tongue wagging around like a worm
Your pompous piety has you twisted up with your jaws set on stern
You're not even real, you're just another Ferguson
First name ****.

Keep your eyes in your head
Keep your mouth on pause
Keep your scorn towards the beliefs of others written in a book
Unpublished
Unseen
Never heard.

But for real though
******* man
You're not a real boy,
But you're a real *****
Mouth moving a minute mile
****!

At the end of the day,
nobody ever gave a **** about what you had to say
Ever!
So just give me a piece of you
Please!
I'm begging!
I'll tear you all apart,
Set you on fire,
And watch you turn crispy,
Critter!
There's nothing worse than some ******* passing judgement on others for voting differently than him.  Well, if you can't beat them, write a poem about them.
407 · Mar 2021
Blinded by Regrets
Steven L Herring Mar 2021
Blinded by Regrets
By Steven L Herring

You ain't woke
You're a joke!
Walkin' around with
one eye closed
and a stick in the other

You're supposed to be my brother
but you mope around
like everything's wrong
and cut the tongue
out of the mouth
of your own mother

You're a cancer
fighting against a cure
Cutting down Osimandius
with a blow torch
refusing to recognize
his death as final
The sand was all that was left
but you dredge it up
while hiding your
true intentions all the while

What's the harm?
You ask me to fall in line
I got a little bit of chalk left,
so I draw my own
to avoid your land mines

Your a disaster
and I'm a commotion
that stirs it up better
than the roughest of oceans
Cancel me not already
doctored up by censors
Keep the truth steady
and the history for mentors

I only got one question
before the judge calls for recess
When will you let go of the past?
At this rate, America will never last!
403 · Mar 2017
Ricipe for Asphalt
Steven L Herring Mar 2017
Blood and liquor
Two barrels of sweat and tar
Five or six guys gotta show up in one car

Machinery and dump trucks
Poor schmucks
Pushing brooms and shovels
Down a road
with a story untold

And all the cars pass ******
Tempers short
Uncaring
Unappreciative
Suits and ties and brows left glaring

There's nothing like fresh asphalt under the tire's wearing
But the men and women on the road crews get ***** looks
For a hard day's  work,
While you drive down the road staring...
398 · Apr 2016
For the Life of Me
Steven L Herring Apr 2016
Hiccoughs and bumps and bruises.
Fell off a couple of times, but I keep getting back on.
thirsty   hungry   tired   sick    *****   hurt
kicked in the face with numb cheeks and ****** tongue.
Quiet times and happiness with jet black smoke on the horizon.
Gotta feeling...that's good though, right?
To feel?  To steal and steel myself for the brunt of it all.
Under the hoof
Under the weight
Blunders and wait!
Wait for what's next though!
Could be real good times...could be bad
could be real bad.
Definitely be REAL!
Last kick to the guts was just another in a long line
followed by more.
On and on and on and on.
Like waves after a storm; green, frothy, washing machine
Salty, sandy shore pound
face meets grit and scrape.
Kick and paddle and fight suddenly seeing white.
Tip top lip curl.
Like the most beautiful girl in the world;
sun shining finally, and you grab on to what you got
Hold on as she pitches and spits you down the long line.
All those bruises and broken bones meaningless now.
She loves you.
She throws you.
She thrills you.
Suddenly, it's all worth it.
I closed my eyes and took my own way down.
The mountain is relentless,
But I'm dying,
so I'm a ******* and I'll never stop trying
Never stop crying.
Never stop laughing
Learning
Loving life as it slips away.
I'll find my own way round...
So I was listening to Oats in the Water by Ben Howard.  I love that dude.  Anyway, it inspired me to write so that's what I did.  Y'all know that feeling you get when you have to write or you'll blow up....  Probably see a line or two I stole from the song.  Couldn't help it.  Just love that song man!
392 · Apr 2017
Reflection
Steven L Herring Apr 2017
You're not so great
Look at how you treat people
Look at how you treat yourself
Actually, that's all you ever do
What's so important about You?

You work all week and visit me
frequently
You take me in your hands and kiss me
oh so deeply
Quickly taking me into you
Steady handed at first,
but how soon you turn sloppy

A ghost in the room
You're all but dead
No one remembers you,
But you blame it on me
See?  
I didn't come to you
I never sought you out
Not on Fridays
Not on long weekends
Not on bad days,
or just because days.

I never even told you we were friends
Nope!
You know what they say about the word assume
The only thing I ever did
was let your monster out
Oh!  He was already there
It's in all of you,
but most do a pretty good job at caging it…
til I come around with the keys to the kingdom

I'm still not taking responsibility though
No way!
You knew what I was when you were just a boy
Your father showed you,
but you forgot
It's okay
Everybody does, and it's not his fault

Look at yourself!
You're the gatekeeper man!
I'm just the ******* with the key
Don't let me in

Look at yourself and solve the problem
Leave me on ice
Unopened
Untouched
Let somebody else play with my fire, boy!
Keep that monster within, ya hear?
Keep the fire in the pit

Look at yourself….
This one is very personal and deals with my alcohol abuse.  I'm an alcoholic, and I'm going on two days sober.  To anyone else with this problem, I love you and I hope you join me in putting the bottle down and walking away.
386 · Sep 2016
Pass the Lubricant
Steven L Herring Sep 2016
So the debate is coming soon.  I'll sum it up for you:

Clinton to trump:  you're a racist white sexist biggot rich guy who hates immigrants

Trump to Clinton: I am rich.  I do hate illegal immigrants.  I've seen all of the highly edited commercials about how "sexist" I am.  Where did you get the racist biggot part from?  Oh ****!  I'm totally white.  My bad!  You're repugnant and you lie about everything you possibly can.  The proofs in the emails.  Oh yeah!  We can't read those.  You BLEACHED YOUR HARD DRIVE!!!  Oh.  And you're a liar.  Just wanted to reiterate that.

Clinton to trump: I didn't know the emails were classified.  I thought the little "c" stood for ****, so I deleted all the derogatory emails in protest.  Whoops.  I shouldn't have said that out loud.

Trump:  starts to go off on a tangent about how great he is and how many ******* people he knows.

Moderator: palms his face, stands up, and walks away (in his mind).
Reminds the candidates to answer the questions and stay on topic

Clinton and Trump in unison: what questions?

The American people: bend over, lather up with some KY, and bite down on the leather strap for another 8 years of ******* *******.

Obama: drives by on his way to go play more ******* golf with a smile on his face.

Steve: tosses a coin, picks heads, and votes for his own ******* in protest.  They'll probably do just as good a job as any of these other **** nuts.

Good night America.  It's been real!
So tired of these *******!
383 · Oct 2018
The Villain and the Victim
Steven L Herring Oct 2018
Budding flower
of happy hour
struck in a dorm room daze
just to wake with
somebody's junk in your face

Drug out dead animal
trailing across plasma
with more hits
than a pizza commercial
and all I got is Michael Jackson
eating popcorn
as we all take in
full frontal media ****

We got he said
We got she said
Hot and fresh right to your seats!
Roe v. Wade
delectably dancing in our tongue and cheeks

Is that all that matters?
Meanwhile the mud splatters
and reputations shatter
And decency scatters

Guy gets his ego elected
and there's a rise in his pants
like one day I'm a do it again
and the bar is lowered for men
and the victim is the villain
Again
and again
and again!

I think I felt a raindrop
as Jesus wept
and a scowl across God's face swept.

It's okay to be a blackout drunk in college
with your future on lock.
I wonder how many children learned this on the living room God box?
377 · May 2017
Poet as Artist
Steven L Herring May 2017
While I was in getting my latest tattoo a week ago, I expressed an interest in the possibility of getting a line or two from one of my own poems tattooed on me somewhere.  I'm not sure that Stan (my artist) understood that I was talking about my own writing.  His answer to my expressed desire was basically a question: why words, when a picture is worth a thousand words?  

     It was an awkward moment for me because I totally agreed with what he said, but in my mind I was very upset.  I wanted to answer him with "because I can't ******* draw, so all I have is my words!", but I didn't.  So the awkward moment was inside my mind and stayed there to never come out until now.  

     Honestly, I'm not really even sure if I've written anything worthy of being permanently placed on my skin.  I'm not even sure I have written anything worthy of even having been taken out of my mind and put in plain view for anyone to see in the first place.  I've always been jealous of the traditional artist who paints and draws and sculpts.  They create life out of absolutely nothing but pigment and paper and even trash.  

     What does a novelist do, but lie about some fictitious event or group of charachters on some world based ever so lightly on reality and sell a reader on his or her ******* to escape their own.  That's pretty harsh.  I realize that.  I guess I can admit that artists are doing the exact same thing, but with much greater effort and, often times, with less environmental impact!  Maybe not.  I don't know.  

     I guess as a man who dabbles in poetry, and I don't dare call myself a poet, I'm just jealous of the attention that other art forms get from audiences.  A painter spends so much time on her canvas, puts it out for the world to see, and the effort immediately receives criticism, both good and bad.  The same thing can be said about musicians.

     Poetry is different though.  It's much more subjective.  I've both written and read topical poetry that was simple and to the point, but that writing is usually just slogans, or maybe even post card worthy crap.  I've done the same thing with poems that I've read a thousand times and I STILL couldn't figure them out!  There really is such a thing as overly clandestine.  I've learned that over the years.  You can play hide and seek, but if nobody finds you, then it's no fun right?

     All art really does is give it's creator an outlet to express himself or herself no matter the vehicle.  Maybe I'll find that perfect stanza of my own words to put on my calf.  Maybe my tattoo artist will read the words and love them.  Maybe he'll scoff, take my money, and throw them up in a hurry.  I guess it doesn't matter much.  Like anyone else who creates, I do it because I have to and not because I want to and, while it would be nice if I could connect with people over my creations, in the end I don't care.  I'm just like every other artist out there who loves what they do and ******* if you don't!
338 · Sep 2016
Vultures
Steven L Herring Sep 2016
You're curious
Nosey
Beak cut off
Face caught in spite

I'm honest
Captive of sincerity
Only time you cared
Was when I plucked your nerve

You thought it was a feeble  finger
Talon
Knifes edge
Now you're spinning
Now you're reeling against me
Like a child against an intruder

Spinning your web
Eight legged freak
I'm a gun without a safety
Smooth criminal
at the trigger
Who's tired of your lies
It's
not funny anymore

There's no begging
There's no pleading
You're a liar
You're the liar
You are the liar
YOU!

**** your approach
You're a great way to end it all
Hide your intentions
Hide your dripping rhetoric
Behind "were not so different"

I am the epitome of difficult
And you're an atheist
I'm lost, but you're unnecessarily nihilistic.

Huh
And they call me a devil
Just because my teeth are sharper...
335 · May 2017
Friendship
Steven L Herring May 2017
It's cool to see all my friends get older
All that grey in their beards
Laugh lines and crows feet
creeping away from their faces

Life's at noon and lunch is on the table
Youth's slipping away,
but dinner still seems a far distance
and the bell has yet to be rung

I see sunshine slipping in through open doors
and a warm breeze envelopes us
as we laugh and talk over a sandwich
even though we're so far away from each other

There will be dark clouds and storms to weather
There will be tears and sadness in our hearts,
but they will be fleeting and short lived
as long as we stick together

Pictures of kids and stories of our own youth
keep us young
Our memories of the good times are just waiting
to be overwritten by better ones yet to come

We're in the twilight of our lives,
but there's a full moon in the sky
When it's dark and cold don't be afraid!
The sun will rise on us again to
warm our hearts and ease our minds
of the troubles of dark and stormy nights

We will dine together one last time
and we will cross life's last line
under a star filled sky
Smiling
Laughing
Loving
Celebrating our friendship
as we gracefully slip into the great unknown...
together
330 · Jul 2018
A Well Lit Tunnel
Steven L Herring Jul 2018
Teetering on the edge of a precipice
prefaced by an ominous gaggle
of creaking timbers and the wafting
of rot from such great lows

The scene was drab and dark and typical
Nothing mystical or mysterious
about the drizzle or the salty spray
from a far off dark sea

The gulls gathered garishly
hungry with white plumage
that seemed unapologetic to the
plight of those still standing atop the heap

Iron tickled at their nostrils
while bits of gore fell from great heights
as the sea birds did their best
to clean up the rotting flesh

But the onlookers still gathered
placing pressure on the rest
to take the leap
into the heap
below

Where the wind would no longer blow
and the decomposers triumphed
under victory over humanity's last breath

While wanderers wondered what came first,
the eggs all cracked under the pressure
and the violence
and the rage
and the bitter anger won the day
while death laughed at gender
and gorged itself on equality
giving the ultimate soliloquy
on peaceful serenity

Flowers and honeysuckle
grew from their skulls
and their rib cages became
such beautiful lattices for the ivy
Finally!
Something good grew from humanity!
329 · Apr 2016
Two to three
Steven L Herring Apr 2016
I walked
with a wounded
woman down
a hallway
with a
nurse at
the end.
He was not
my friend.
He was
not her
friend either.
He was
just another
***** ***
mouth breather.
326 · Sep 2016
Ghost Stories
Steven L Herring Sep 2016
We all sat around some fire once
We all laughed and drank too much
At least one of us sang a song
At least one of us did.

Somebody was wise
Somebody else was blunt
There was a sad face amongst us
Somebody was laughing hysterically.

Someone was vigilant and kept us whole
Another one kept us informed,
While most of us laughed and carried on
And yet...time went on....

We never got a chance to all hang out together
That always brought a tear to my eyes.
But I was able to spend some time with all of you,
And it was always a bright spot in my life.

We were, all of us, together once
In a bed, a truck, a stand, or some water somewhere.
Maybe a grade school classroom
or in a kitchen elsewhere.

I'm tearfully happy to know each one of you personally
My life is complete
A fisherman at twilight
A full net of irreplaceable fish
Who I happily cast back into the sea
For the very next lucky old me.
For my friends....or for your friends too
Steven L Herring Feb 2016
I am a devil with angels wings
an angel with a forked tongue
I've got a pocket full of tracts
and a large street filled with no one to pass
them to

I walked a million miles with a trillion soles
trickling through the crosswalks
tripping and stumbling,
mostly falling in the holes

But I know I'm no loner
I know I'm surrounded by kin
We're all here and we're all the queerest folk
Queer as queer has ever been!

So you're a fighter and a winner?
Everybody's a tough guy behind steel plated glass,
but I know you, and you'll bend right over
as soon as the president starts this class!

So, here's to you my fellow angels
with your burnt, broken wings and rusty swords
May our cups become refilled with hope
and our tongues wag with words of life
while we crawl out of these caves of ******* and
fill the skies with light and explosion,
While we beat back the darkness and resume our truthful wars!
322 · May 2017
security
Steven L Herring May 2017
I was driving yesterday, and while in traffic
I saw a car with the word security
in big bold black letters
stretched out across the smallish white bumper.

The driver of that car went left,
and I switched lanes to travel right.
I didn't feel secure behind him.
I felt trapped in his presence.

The further I went away from security,
the closer I felt to freedom.
People get the concepts of freedom
and security mixed up in their minds

all the time.  While there is security in freedom,
it's the security of being free
and providing for yourself,
not depending on someone else to make you feel safe.

Security is the result of freedom that you fight for,
not the servitude you surrender to.
Do you want to surrender to security,
or do you want to fight for freedom?
319 · Nov 2017
Operator
Steven L Herring Nov 2017
Eyes on a screen
and fingers on a keyboard
Mouth in an ear
not necessarily yours

It was just a dream
Some sort of nightmare
that an author imagined
but eyes still stare

Hair standing pricked on goose flesh
but no one is around
Is it paranoia
that has us feeling bound?

A screen and some wires
Someone smoking cigarettes
with a cold cup of coffee
Sharp toes on a web with waiting spinerettes

Always watching keystrokes
with a peculiar curiosity for one's words
Chosen with wild whimsy
but dilegently documented as a personally penned funeral durge

There's no such thing as thin air anymore
No vacuum sending sentences to an empty space
Our words will surely haunt us forever
and everyone of us an operator in cyberspace
317 · Jun 2016
Exposed
Steven L Herring Jun 2016
I'll just hide inside my head
Wait and hide
Til you all are dead
No longer a failure will I be
Your eyes are closed now,
so you can't see.
You can't see me for what I really am
Your eyes are closed and filled with sand
No you can't see me for what I've grown to be.
Just another man.
Just plain ol' ordinary me...
313 · Sep 2016
Life as a Fifth Wheel
Steven L Herring Sep 2016
On the bus,
But not so much.
We go round and round
With smiles turned upside down

Pushed aside
Try to talk,
But we're not doing this is all I got
Lash out
Anger
Bitterness

Frustrated
Aggravated
So mad the tears won't cry
Stranger in my house that wants to die

I don't want that though
No.
Just want the stranger
To go

Never signed up for that
Never ringed a finger
For the "Oh, by the way"
Hair trigger

It's like a canister unchecked
Pumps
Pumps
Pumps
POP!!!!!!!

I don't get it man
Everything was pony boy
Til he came, and you let him
I didn't want him hear, but you didn't!

I'm tired, but I can't sleep
All I do lately is eat
Drive and cut grass
I'll be glad when this **** right here is past...
312 · Mar 2016
Easy Listening
Steven L Herring Mar 2016
It's dark in here and it smells like beer.
Cold, cracked and crumbled.
The silent stillness is edgy.
Breaking;
broken through with an axe,
beatings and screaming!

The stillness is gone now,
and the floor moves.
Crawling, clawing, kicking and punching.
Less a circle and more of an infinity symbol.
A fine mess of distress and stress
stretched out and spreading.

It's catching like a cold.
Wall to wall madness,
but toothy smiles and ****** buddies
is all that's seen in the
strobing, stumbling
almost bumbling hundred man pile up on the floor.

My heart beats to this perfect cacophony.
Smells like angst and desperation and gym class!
He shares his pedestal with us.
Like one we all merge together
and find our happy place
til it's all over.

Headed home.
Head full of stories.
Ears like telephones ringing,
and beds bringing sleep.
I bought a shirt said I was there...
blew half a paycheck...

but I didn't care!
311 · Oct 2016
The Traveler
Steven L Herring Oct 2016
No comfy couch
No chains to bind me
Just a road and two legs
With no one to come and find me

Got a staff
and a good pair of boots
Couple grey hairs in a bristled beard
Rudderless fits best when your chopped off at the roots

The road in front of me
Looks a lot like the one behind
Empty, baron wasteland of paint and asphalt
faces ahead unseen similar to the others distorted with time

No place to rest
My weary and aching bones
No one left to believe in here nor there
Never really was anyway so far from home

People are beasts
Weighed down by the burdens they bare
But I drag a wagon to carry them lightly
And pretend that I don't care

But my hands tire
From the heavy load behind me
So I let it go and carry on further and further still
For I am the traveler, and I have no teathers to keep me here
304 · Apr 2016
Escapist
Steven L Herring Apr 2016
I saw mountains and forests and rivers and streams.
The beaches with their salty spray called to me from afar.
I imagined trails and creatures of every kind.
Tree sap, sticky, sticking dirt to my hands.

I could smell the campfires and hear the laughter
and taste the hotdogs.
The acoustic guitar and softly singing sweet lips
tickled my ears and goosebumps gave way to a contented smile.

I could feel the wind rushing through my short hair and the
Low hum of the tires on the rocky, ***** trail
complete with root pops, plucking at the spokes like
the agile hands of a master harpist.

And then there was the snow from downhill rooster tails
carved with care by girls and boys on boards.
The splash of water from some river craft in rapids
and that smile again...so big it made my face hurt!

It was weeks waking in tents...
Maybe months or even years!
It could've been anything, man.
I don't know...I don't know, but my imagination ran with it!

The plates on this peculiar car read "North Dakota,"
but the stickers and the racks and the solar cells
on top screamed ADVENTURE!!!!!
It was amazing to see.

I stood there with my friend in this city scape
for a few moments...that's all.
But this car...oh this car!  It made me think.
It made me dream, and it made me lust for adventure....
In explanation, I was out with a good friend of mine, Mark, and we came across this car in Hampton.  It had roof racks and a rear rack.  It was COVERED in stickers from all over the place!  It had a solar cell on top of it and a car battery in the front on a rack mounted to the bumper.  This thing brought out all of these feelings in me, and as I dwelled upon them a moment ago, I decided to write it down.  I've always loved the woods and camping, but this car!  It was like seeing my soul!  Even if I don't ever get  a chance to actually live like this, I'll always have this car in the back of my mind to remind me that somebody gets to...somewhere!
300 · Aug 2016
A Parable of Sorts
Steven L Herring Aug 2016
I've got two hands in my pockets.  One is filled with hope, peace, love, and charity.  The other one is filled with hate, anger, hopelessness, and selfishness.  I've tried and tried to put them together, but they always blow apart.  I walk around feeling like people are staring at me and my Jesus Christ on a cross pose.  It's really frustrating sometimes trying to go through doors.  I have to turn sideways...and all because my two hands won't let go of their precious cargo to meet in the center of my body.  Sometimes, when it's quiet, I swear I hear them talking to each other.  One is begging the other one to let go, while the other screams in agony.  What can I do, but sit and wait for a miracle...or a machete mishap.  One hand has so much to give, while the other wants to take away the world....
Less of a poem.  I know, but it's all I've been able to squeeze out of my head lately.  Lots going on....
299 · Mar 2016
Saw You Lookin
Steven L Herring Mar 2016
I'm the devil who won't let go
the bull dog
with a locked jaw...
The clown shoes with a crease and long journey's bow

I'm the fighter with cauliflower ear
Beat up a thousand times
*******,
I'm still hear!

I'm not going anywhere.
Even if I croak,
Kick the ******* bucket
and die like a joke.

All that **** I wrote down is for you
You can read it, eat it, and **** it out your backside.
I put it down for you to read anyway.
You don't have to like it, believe it, or swallow it as real.
I know you saw it once.
Thanks for the warm feels!
Steven L Herring Jan 2017
There is nothing new under this sun.
Nothing but cracks in the sidewalk's bend.
No kind, uplifting words from a close friend
that can stop life's promised bitter end.

There's an impassable gap in
your stairway to heaven's gates
you designed yourself,
so the buck stops in your own hands.

Shiny happy people holding chainsaws, handguns,
and sticks on fire.
All the better to flame up your funeral pyre.
All the jeers
mixed with all of the blood
and sweat
and tears
placed perfectly silent into your coffin and covered with dirt.

Yet one question never mattered in the end did it?
Who's the ******* president now?
Who cares?
296 · Jul 2016
Eraser
Steven L Herring Jul 2016
I wish I could
If I might
Be able to erase your minds tonight.

Not all the way
Just a little
To make you forget
All the evil

I would erase your skin
Show the world what I see
The good that steals itself away
Deep inside
Hiding within

Like children
Playing games in a front yard
Or drinking from a hose
Of hateful racist ideology
I would dispose
And make you brand new again

I hate all of this animosity
I hate it.
It makes me hide my face in shame and sorrow....
It attacks my soul and tortures it.
286 · Oct 2016
Broken Speaker
Steven L Herring Oct 2016
This is an open mic
But there's no bulletproof glass here
What you say
Will directly affect your pay.

Your best bet is to keep quiet and listen up
That mic in the corner is poison
You're not ready to handle it
Organize your thoughts and come correct

Don't be
Another casualty
Think about what you're gonna say
Before you spray

Somebody will come from behind
And give you more than a piece of mind
Leave you breathless and bleeding
Leave you toothless and weeping

So think about what you say, son
This stage is a trap
This mic ain't so open.
This room is a meat grinder, and you're the meat.
Everybody is so quick to opine, that they often don't think about what they're saying or what the ramifications of their words might actually be.  This is especially true now due with regards to social media.  Folks can almost effortlessly blurt out what they think about any given subject without a care for anyone's or any group's feelings.  I wrote this poem in hopes that it might cause a little more forethought in opinion sharing.  A good opinion is constructed through study and observations concerning a topic.  It's not just thrown out in a vacuum.  Those opinions are only worth two cents.
284 · Feb 2016
A Simple Explanation
Steven L Herring Feb 2016
My eyes are in leather sheaths because they have to be
Otherwise, my emotions would be so plain to see
The only thing that gives me away is my mouth that spills the words that will be the unrelenting death of me!

The depth of me?  I don't know man!  You tell me, because all I see is your face staring back at me;
cold truth with a sprinkle of angry
and a dash of salt.  The full moon is the only time I can blame it on lunacy,
otherwise my crazy sticks out like a hot **** on a cold day!

Why do I do this to myself?  Because it pains me if I don't!
Besides, I love to imagine that look on your face when you read me
somewhere between that guy falling off his bike and your mom's new brownie recipe.
Ba ha ha ha!  Seriously though.  I don't care what you think of me.

As long as when I speak, you think at all.  That makes me happy.
That gets me through my day.  If you're gonna walk around with your ******* face glued to your phone, might as well read something that made your brain hurt a little, *****!

Peace man, be easy...
282 · Nov 2017
Cold
Steven L Herring Nov 2017
It's grey outside
and I'm looking for something warm
but all I find is snow covered metal benches
The blood on the top makes me think of cherry slushies

Bare branches break
in a driving wind that relentlessly
pushes me
and my face is a cold stone slab of nothingness
staring out of a dark void
filled to the rim with emptiness

Eyes
so dry
they ain't seen a tear in a month or two
but I'm like Conan as I walk in circles
pushing this stone wheel somebody called life
I get stronger and stronger
til I am the mountain before my mind
and bigger than anything anyone else has ever climbed

I crack a tooth-filled grin
and swing the bat again
cuz even Casey connect wood to ball
every once in a while

But it's so grey and black inside me
I'll find some place to run and hide me
just til this wind dies down a little bit
not a lot
just a little
...****
281 · Apr 2017
Alive
Steven L Herring Apr 2017
Sunroof open
AC off
Music cascades off the doors
and the floors
and escapes through the open windows
to bless all within earshot

Eyes jacketed behind
A fresh set of shades,
making the blues and greens pop
to the beat of the wind in my eardrums

Cool
crisp
breeze settling on my face
with a touch of sun
sending a warm glow down
to the very core of my soul.
It's my day like Claypool said.
What's better than Primus
on a fresh Spring day?

The leaves
on the trees
Remind me of newborns that can barely lift their heads;
unfurling
growing
reaching out to touch the sun
like Superman getting his groove back.

Buds bursting with color
like the fourth of July.
What a beautiful day…
It's great
to be out on a drive...
Steven L Herring Jul 2017
Been walking a knife's edge
with ****** feet
slipping
sliding
to one side or the other
Either way is a fall
and a skinning
and a death

There's no life left
in a last breath,
so I'll tie this loose end
around this pole and
finally prove that we can all float down Here!

Besides, the same people toe tapping to good times
are the same ones
tap dancing on dead men's gravestones,
so **** it!
Y'all can grab somebody else's legs at the top of this ***.

I'm done.
Seen the world through American eyes
It's a world filled with
violence,
slander,
and lies.
You can beat that thing that's between your thighs
til you're old and gray.
*****, feel free!
I'm jumping off this stool to see
what's waiting behind door number three.
You can talk all ******* day,
but I won't hear you anymore
and neither will
you
hear
me...
This was a response to the terrible things I've seen on social media concerning the death of the Linkin Park front man.  Very sad.
280 · Aug 2016
Faded
Steven L Herring Aug 2016
Maybe I should just stay at home today.
Maybe I should just throw my phone away.
I'll hide in an over grown bush
Away from all the people who push

Keep your grubby paws off me
Your sideways glances and sneers make it hard to be
Happy and so easy to be hateful
And lost; unfaithful.

I have no faith in anyone or anything but failure.
Everything we touch is another broken thing to fix.
As the days go by, my thoughts become much darker,
Because all I see is a world filled with ******* and ******!

As I sit here in my morning thoughts,
All the damages surveyed
All the ***** holding tightly in their pots
There's only one recurring theme conveyed

We'll have our cake...and we'll eat it too
We'll see this through
**** the cost!
Selfish and ******...
Anything but true....
278 · Jun 2017
The Fallacy of Greatness
Steven L Herring Jun 2017
There's a galaxy in Orion's belt
A cats paw
caught in a catchpaw
with a glass eye that sees all

Come one come all
Everybody knows
see saws are no fun alone
and a dog's day is destitute without his bone

Nowadays, nobody can
solve a problem
without a little help
from a smartphone

But back in my day,
phones were much dumber
and if you wanted to get a hold of somebody,
You had to hold onto a number
and keep it locked up safe
inside your head away from
all the other useless clutter

But all this technology
We're so proud of
has landed us in the same spot in the stars

We're all still standing here smiling at
at our tiny little screens
ignoring all of the rest of the world
with all of their silent screams
while the galaxy still sits;
safely tucked away in Orion's belt,
and we walk on by;
Comfortably oblivious
to just how small we really are...
278 · May 2017
Adrift
Steven L Herring May 2017
I can't save you.  
Maybe somebody else can,
but I'm drowning all by myself over here.  
Can't you see this?  

I'm hanging on
to so many other people right now
that I have no free hands for you,
but if you can find a corner
of my shirt then grab on.

Don't say I didn't warn you,
and stay the **** away from my feet.
I'll kick you
I'm not strong enough to know
the difference between
helping and hurting,
and if you're weak like me
we'll both

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