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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!
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 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
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
Steven L Herring Mar 2018
I forgot flowers, so I laid down my guns
as a peace offering.
I walked to your side
shrouded in black
Dismal
Destitute
Dismantled
Disheveled

I shoveled the dirt to the side myself
After all,
I was the murderer
I was the maniacal mastermind
Always pacing
Mind always racing
Thumbs always flitting

Some of mine is mine to keep
but I'm really bad at that
so I decided to keep it all
inside myself

Beside myself with loneliness
for quite some time
I decided to dig you up again
Nothing changed
Your opinions still flared
Your pictures still dared
my eyes to glimpse

I found myself void of expression
with the exception of a curled upper lip
Suspended in disbelief
Saturated in thoughtlessness again
Not again
Never again I promised

So I scratched and clawed the surface
Handful
after
handful of earth flung feverishly
behind me until I needed a ladder to climb out

I pushed you back into your hole
The whole of you lie there together
The hole in me didn't close
but your body would rot soon
and all I had to do was keep walking
and leave the corpse behind
as I spent the next few weeks
Clearing my mind
Alone
Secret
Broken
Woken by reality

I never stopped thinking though
I can't
I won't
But I will bury you forever,
and I will grow
and maybe you'll all grow with me.
Steven L Herring May 2017
My heart goes out to all the victims
of circumstance
Bombs bursting
Flesh torn to a tattered mess
Blood spattered
Sidewalks full of brain matter
and bones splintered
into nothing more than pick up sticks

In a world crying
and dying
for remorse,
all we see is your face
Staring
and uncaring
A toothy grin lights your dark visage
and your word for word interpretation
of your puny god's message
to dispatch the souls of the infidel
like trees felled
in a forest for not being hard enough

Just what are you trying to do?
You're all kookoo
for cocoa puffs
and the band plays along
to your song
too afraid to pass judgement
too afraid to get it wrong

You should know
that there are those of us
sitting
waiting
in the shadows
juggling our hammers
ready to lay hands of retribution on you
Just as soon as somebody says GO!
For thine eyes are filled with hate
and blood lust
and our hammers will fall for you
Steven L Herring May 2017
My heart goes out to all the victims
of circumstance
Bombs bursting
Flesh torn to a tattered mess
Blood spattered
Sidewalks full of brain matter
and bones splintered
into nothing more than pick up sticks

In a world crying
and dying
for remorse,
all we see is your face
Staring
and uncaring
A toothy grin lights your dark visage
and your word for word interpretation
of your puny god's message
to dispatch the souls of the infidel
like trees felled
in a forest for not being hard enough

Just what are you trying to do?
You're all kookoo
for cocoa puffs
and the band plays along
to your song
too afraid to pass judgement
too afraid to get it wrong

You should know
that there are those of us
sitting
waiting
in the shadows
juggling our hammers
ready to lay hands of retribution on you
Just as soon as somebody says GO!
For thine eyes are filled with hate
and blood lust
and our hammers will fall for you
Steven L Herring Jan 2017
Crash
Smash
Explode!

Mountains to boulders to rocks to dirt to dust
Come clouds and crystals of ice;
Tight ball of hot metal
***** dust settles

A storm develops
Universe ****
A solar system's lust is born,
and everybody's ******* like rabbits!

It's a big ***;
A couldron;
A stew is cooking and boiling over
As it tips, it spills out upon Earth
Filling the mountains and valleys and seas with life
Galactic money shot hit pay dirt

And
God
Wept....
Steven L Herring Jul 2018
It's so easy
to go right out
turn my back
walk away
My soul’s been sold
a million times
What's one more
stupid dime?

Walked this way
for so long
One foot out
to trip myself
Eat concrete
Head all hurt
Another drink
Forget about all of you!

I'm the rebel in black and blue!
A rebel who burned his clue!
Stairs with a broken step!
If I don't get up, I'll drink myself to death!

Cat's away
Time to play
**** my friends
Don't need amends
Serve myself
Die alone
in my home
or in the street

I'll get online
show my behind
Wake up hurt
It's all fine
Delete last night
no big deal
I'll forget about how I feel!

I was the rebel in black and blue!
Drunken fighter without a clue!
Waking up to fix this step!
I won't drink myself to death!
#writeasong
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 2018
"Not another one!"
Whispering in unison
the worshipers of heroes
gasped
grasping at the unbelievable
truth that behind closed closet doors,
the filth spilled out from underneath the rug
it was swept under

Heard tale that she did terrible things
for a man to be worshipped
Heard tail that she gave him wasn't his first
Heard tale of tails sold for eyes and a silver screen

Technicolor
DTS
Dolby Digital **** kits
passed out
To passed out kids
and women suffered the brunt of it
for low wages and red carpet
for a bit part and a chance
to walk across a stage and thank
all the monsters for ****** her twice

Once in a closet behind closed doors
Once at the bank-backed bounced check

next to a leading man
who stole all of her fame

But alas, my dearest friends
Your heroes aren't dead
They're all begging you
to take the kryptonite
off of them and put them
back into the sunlight
Sometimes
even superheroes need help from regular folk

Bury Hollywood in old console coffins
Use the media as fill dirt
and turn drive-ins into cemeteries
HASHTAGMETOO
Steven L Herring Dec 2018
Good Books Have Frayed Pages
By Steven L Herring

There's a little dirt
under the carpet
The coffee coasters
cling to well worn rings,
chipped at the edges
like laugh lines
on a face mostly spent
filled with content
or contempt

A ***** door ****
with a sticky striker
and a bent frame tells a story
of tough times trudged,
and fingerprints smudged
corroborate the abuse

But none of that matters much
The sun still shines,
and the heart is still beating inside
and the cells continue to divide
so the chance to turn it around
is still alive

The past has passed
The future has only been lined
There is still time to pick out
the colors
to plot the scheme
and make a dark cloud cottony
To make a flower
grow out of a tragedy
Steven L Herring Mar 2021
There are dry spots in mourning
Terrible moments when 
the tears stop flowing
and the nose 
stops
running
And all you feel 
is numb nothingness 
mixed in with a blank stare
and an emptiness that almost
consumes you


It's not that you don't care
After a wave crashes to the shore
and before the next one rolls in describes it well
A lull
A break before being picked up
and pushed under again
to fight for air


There's a dry spot this morning
as the rain falls to ground
I hope I don't stay here long
I'd rather ride one wave in 
and be done with it all at once,
but that's not how it goes
No, my friend 
So keep fighting
We will press on till the end
Steven L Herring Mar 2018
Gas lit grassroots
**** so thick
gotta wear muck boots
to walk in your America
We suffer your hysteria

Every time a poll opens
amber waves whitewash wavering
opinions on old, dusty musty issues
with presorted used tissues
and a brown paper bag
to make the rotten fruit taste that much sweeter

And you rob us
You bend us over with a power tie
and some brand new pant suit
but the flag on your lapel is a lie
and you couldn't cough up
a first of the month bill toss up
If somebody kicked your kid's ***
out of private school for low fundage

And yet
Here
You
Are
Again
on your stump with your hand out
looking for another term
to fill your bank account
as you scoff at a grand
in my hand
like it was just dust
in the wind from your lungs
Hot air
Rotten
Rancid
It's disgusting the way you whisper acid
into our ears
every two to four years

You've still got your hands in our pockets
but nobody ever gets a happy ending
do they, Mr congressman?
Do they, Mrs congresswoman?
You split us down the middle
Perfectly parted partisan propaganda
Party lines
Party lies
You're all the same vampires
You're all the same tar pit trap
with a worm at the bottom hungry
for favorable public opinion

about how it's acceptable to **** us
over and over again

Please sir, may I have another?
Excuse me Mrs, may I please
cut the grass at the border?
Can we watch
willingly or not
for an example of how to accomplish nothing
and get paid for it?
Uncle and aunt touchy need their hands chopped off
and I need an endless flow of cold beer
to drink the pain away year after year

Just a hypothetical
but wouldn't it be beneficial
if the government were suffocated by pillows
in our sleep?
Steven L Herring Mar 2016
Where the red rocks erupt from the ground
tinged with turquoise.
I'm full of the devil's salt, dancing around;
With a youthful grin and the energy of a small boy.

Elevation like a highway rest stop seeping water
Guard rails and traffic shortening my trek
across the freeway, lest I falter
and taste the iron; taste the granite, taste America's highways!

A spark...a fire...a wolverine across the Midwest.
I'm a match from the televisions of the eighties.
I'm looking for that rock that spells out our pride...
Our blinking light from the rocks and the Reagan wreckage.

But was it really that bad?  Nah!
We had broken walls, metal, and blue jeans at cost!
Trickle down economics
And a beaten communist block.

We had a people united
In more countries than one.
We had a crew dedicated to digging up landmines...
So no one died, while taking the long, unfamiliar walk home....

What are we voting for now?  Some strange new world...
Well, it's nothing new really!
It's just a bunch of the same **** that you never heard of before.
But mostly, it's because you just weren't listening....
Happy election, y'all!:-D
Steven L Herring Oct 2017
A shell
A husk tossed into the drift
Discarded and left to float
All alone in a sea of cold breakers

The insides were ablaze once,
Now burnt to cinders.
You'd never know that there was once a glow there
A spark
A heart
And now bled out
And dried up
That which was not eaten by the wolves
Or ****** up by maggots

Even the great ocean cannot quell
The anxious spirits that
leap laughingly at the furrowed
coal-like chasms that are but ghosts in this shell;
Blood lust in their flared nostrils
As they dance in victory
Over the emptiness.

Where once stood a great and mighty beast of a man
Now stands a silent statue of a
frowning clown left
brooding
Weeping
Teeth sharpened once,
But left flat from gnashing.

I am this husk
And I am left empty
With nothing left to do while dying....
Steven L Herring Apr 2016
Grey, cold, soaking wet wind whipping my face
dripping disgrace;
drifting in space with a broken ship
wishing for a river and a broken oar...at least there I could swim!
Plans were made behind the scenes.
Schemes were hatched and summer fun put in a stall headed for the ground with no chute.
No end
No silver lined clouds on the horizon.
The air is cold and I'm stuck with strangers.
The flares are all gone as I duck from danger.
Castle corrupted and cockpit cracked open.
The pressure popped the seals, and I'm left too weak to pull it all closed again.
It's okay though.
I'll hide in my own dungeon; digging my own mote with broken fingernails and cracked cuticles.
My own prison suffocates me; melting into the mold.
Playing the role written for me.
There's no escape, just more and more
piled on petals from dead flowers.
What could've been should've been, but now gone...
forever in a vacuum and lost in some sea....
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.
Steven L Herring Oct 2017
I hate you because you let me go
I hate you because you put me last
I hate you because nostalgia attracted us
and brought us together way too fast.

I hate you because you stole my heart
I hate you because you broke it
I hate you because you were always right
no matter which way I tried to spin ****.

I hate you because I have nothing left but hate
I hate you because I'm angry
I hate you because the mirror won't lie
and...just one time...defend me

The truth is I don't hate you at all
but my heart is infected by sadness
I should've shared my feelings with you
now my mind is infected with madness.
Steven L Herring Aug 2018
I'll write poetry til my hands fall off and the only thought in my brain is horse broom *** trigger.

I'll write poetry whether it's read, ignored, or set on fire for blasphemy.

I'll write poetry whether it makes you roll your eyes and scoff a little or die right inside your head.

I'll write poetry because if I don't, the thoughts inside my head will send us all to an early grave without dinner.

I'll write poetry over sleeping, because it brings me rest.

I'll write poetry because sometimes it's not appropriate to walk around with my ******* up for all the world to see.

I'll write poetry because if I didn't, you'd never read it otherwise.
Steven L Herring Apr 2018
I'm sorry for what I said when it was winter
The frosty freeze of snow
hardened my heart
and made the ground splinter

I didn't mean for my words
to make you shiver
I didn't mean for my words
to be a reason for you to pickle your liver
but it's spring now,
so thaw out for me dear
The birds are singing all around
just for you to hear

I can see your sullen face starting to crack
with the warm air surrounding you
and the sun at your back
Grass turning to green
and the trees starting to bud
I can't say for certain
but I think I heard your heart make a thud

So while I'm still sorry for the
things that I said when it was winter
I'm hoping you forgive me and let
my absolution come that much quicker
and let the ties that bound us together
become that much thicker
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.
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.
Steven L Herring Sep 2018
It's alright to be a little sad once in awhile
Little sad
Little while
Little faded smile
Little sweaty eyes
Little bit of dirt in life's aisle

Take it and run with it
See what it can be
Maybe it'll foster a smile later
Maybe....
We'll wait and see

A foaming, frothy sea
Between you and me
The rainy day
Making it less salty
Than it would be
Usually

No real tears
Just a little glum
Maybe it's the empty room
Maybe it's because the tv's not on
Maybe the sky's been gray for too long
Maybe we just need to change the song
Or play any song

It's okay to be a little sad
It's better than being overly mad
Always better than feeling really bad
Probably wake up and feel a little glad
But

For now

It's okay to be a little sad
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...
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...
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...
Steven L Herring Apr 2017
I Lost My ****

I don't really know what's going on right now
                                                       right now
All I know
is I was ******* on the side of a highway
DEVIL faced
Evil.
Like a slasher with nothing else to do.

I didn't like it though
Nope!  
Some dude in a big diesel truck
Picked me up.

I got home, and I had no excuse for the mud on my legs.
I had no excuse for anything.
No excuse,
But angry
Was looking at me
But most of it was from my own face,
so who can I be mad at?

HEY STEVE!   STOP BEING A **** UP!  
But that's all I got
All I got
All I got
All I got
So…
Hey!  I can pick up heavy ****
So…
I can be an ******* better than anybody I know ,
So…
I'm just a ruiner that's no good at nothing,
So…
**** it all!
Steven L Herring Feb 2018
I wear it on my sleeve
Blacked out
Cracked out
****** ******* mess

I reach out for help
but I miss my mark
and stab a hole in your chest
Grabbing
Ripping
Tearing through the sack

I've got a knack
for crushing chest wounds
I walk worlds withering with decay
Writhing with dismay
Manic with panic and scandal
and death's grip like a handle
Love's laborious little vandal

Your heart isn't on your sleeve
You're a liar and a fake
A dandelion in a garden full of dying flowers
in desperate need of a hard rake
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...
Steven L Herring Feb 2018
Barstool outside of Barstow
Desperado
Lonely grotto
Broken soul
What a chip on your shoulder though!

How are you not a hunchback?
You got lonely by the *******!
No debate
There's no arguing that!

Closet full of little boxes
Highly political
I'm full of spikes though
I'm punctual
I stab and cut red tape

I hate
So full of debate I can't stand myself
I'll die all alone
Satisfied
Unbroken
Unchained
Unrelenting
But not uncaring

I'll hold this center line...
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 Oct 2017
peel the bandage back
beg for cleansing
beg for mercy
beg for attention,
but you shy away from the sting

The violin used to play for you,
but strings once stretched
dangle now
broken and frayed
as your left afraid of your own face

Your shaking shadow tip toes around you
where everyone can see
not you
not now
not even as the ground trembles
underneath your timid toes

It's not a devil that stalks you
it's not some shapeless, wispy ghost
that floats
behind you and makes your hair stand up
It's tangible truth tickling your comfort
and freezing out your warm spot

She is a monster that does not hide
She walks your path with you
waiting
plotting
excited for the day you turn around and look
in the mirror so that she can devour you
Steven L Herring Aug 2016
Beauty painted on
A silky, silver-blue sky
With jungles
And forests
And oceans
And plains

Every creature and every living thing
Perfect in its own way
With humanity at the helm
Earth's greatest flaw
Her greatest disease
Her infectious melancholia.

No worries...
Our mother knows how to fix herself
The clothed, wretched beast
Wollowing in its own self righteousness
Dreaming that it was in charge
Ruling itself as if it were King of the universe

Who lied to them?
Who is responsible for making them feel as if they were invincible?
Perhaps it was self imposed
Perhaps they dreamt it or read it in some book they authored themselves
Perhaps their ever expanding technology
Coerced them into appointing themselves as overlords

Beautiful world
Ugly humanity
A pity
Really
The possibilities are seemingly endless
Yet they bend themselves on destruction
And selfishness

Well...
It's almost over anyway
They will be reminded
Of their own fragility soon enough
Or is there hope still?
I think there is
But only through catastrophe
Such is their way....
Steven L Herring Jan 2019
Move Along There's Nothing to See Here
By Steven L Herring

Couples.
I hate watching couples.
I hate watching videos about couples
and marriage.
There's a finality flitting about them.
You can see the grave markers
shackled to their feet
like cheap price tags at a thrift store
dragging behind them
through the murk and the mud.

I was married once
It was filled with
damage and demand
and amusement park arguments
and broken promises
coming from all directions.
It was like running through the woods
looking backwards but bouncing
off of trees.
A soarly sour payment
for living life on my knees
and practicing idolatry.

Partners…
more like panthers in the dark.
Sharp teeth to tear skin from bones.
One steps out
while one slams the door
to anything near the word agreement.
Thanks for the reminder.
I'll pay more attention to my dog.
Steven L Herring Oct 2018
Face up against the window
Eyes full of road, plains grass,
and a far away mountain pass
The sweet smell of summer
creeping through a window
that's slightly cracked
in a beat up old Volkswagen
with a broken 8 track

Mom's sleeping in the front seat
and dad's got some country music
singing sweet serenades softly
through twitchy speakers in a broken
door panel while we work our way
across God's country from
sea to shining sea

There's something magical
about a road trip
black asphalt
and the sight of a farmer's sprinklers
at sixty and five miles an hour
two in the afternoon
on a hot and dusty strip
of road between hotels and night's
long starry pauses
and sun's yawning rises

Nobody loves it more than
little boys and girls in a backseat
with a blanket
a pillow
and some snacks to watch
America come to life on a
window-cranked movie screen.
Steven L Herring Nov 2017
Somebody show me how to walk again,
Because I've fallen
and I can't keep from stumbling
Fumbling the ball
and mumbling to no one at all
alone in my car going nowhere

It's a shame I'm in such a shambles
Feel like an ant under a microscope
Crispy critter drowning in my own
molten pile of ******* with a sippy cup
full of broken promises and let downs
It's too late for me now
There's no quarters for clowns
only smiles turned upside down

Would somebody please stop this bus?
I think I want to get off now, ******!
Steven L Herring Dec 2016
There's a spot on your coat
And a frog in your throat
You haven't combed your hair
Or made your bed in months

Your days and your nights are all the same
Filled with a lack of desire and hint of shame
You've paced trails on all the floors of this house
You haven't been outside in weeks

The weight of those boulders
You carry on those shoulders
Would've cracked a lesser man in half
After an hour or two.

Now you're standing here in front of me
And the others here to see
Just what a mess you've left to clean up
Isn't this fun?

You're no good
To anyone
You mope around wearing other people's clothes
When you've got a closet full of your own fresh ones

Son!
You're no good to anyone
Nope.
No way.
No how.

You're a flicker
in a dying fire
A broken heart
and a lost desire
A blown out
trailor tire
The last ember
In a funeral pyre

Son.
You're no good to anyone
Not like this
Please...don't let it end like this...
Not like this....
Steven L Herring Nov 2017
He lived inside of his head
hiding behind music
politics and ****
It was a long lonely life
It was short really

She saw him sitting on a porch drunk
babbling about rock shows
trucks
and trailers and she forgot about
everyone else inside
and they talked for hours
...and they talked for hours....

They fell in lust and in love
and she bought a dump
and married him
They loved each other
but they didn't know why
they just didn't know why...

They sold the money pit
moved
and he changed jobs a couple times
but she was a career woman
and he was jumping jack on fire
and he couldn't sit still
He couldn't even sit still...

There were strangers in their house
It was scary and dark
He covered up for a long cold winter
and drowned himself in ales and stouts
and they stopped talking
they just stopped talking...

But the internet found him
and he found him too
then he found another drink for courage
and spilled his guts all over the floor
She pretended to clean them up
but she swept them under the rug
For six months she swept them under a rug...

Elephants and fermenting guts don't keep well
She pulled the rug up and danced all over him
riding the elephant
China closet catastrophe
So he moved out and she changed the locks
They signed a bunch of useless, expensive paper
Useless, expensive ******* paper...

He crumpled up ten years of marriage
She ignores his texts
They speak electronically
but the electricity is long gone
Not a spark left in the igniter
Just a long cold winter
Just another
long
cold
winter
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!
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
Steven L Herring Dec 2018
Out of My Mind
By Steven L Herring

And if I have to tell you twice
you weren't listening the first time
The wind was quiet
The trees were still
and you refused to hear
Your eyes are daggers to my soul
and your words are empty
like your heart
and black like your thoughts

You couldn't hit the door fast enough
but I opened it for you
and sent you away
with a parting gift
A boot for your backside
as I crushed you in my mind
Your memory faded
like smoke
from an extinguished candle
yet you still fill the room
with your stench

An open window wafts
and whisks away
the foul last breath
from your worthless words
full of hate
And I raise my glass to celebrate
the exodus of a dying thought
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 *******!
Steven L Herring Oct 2017
Bad
Good
Bad
Good
Bad
Good
I stabbed the ****** in its throat
And wrote
My own version of good!

Tick tock
went the clock
on the wall
Eat a fat ****,
father time!
You ain't no
father of mine!

God gave you a book?
Well, he gave me my mind,
And it constantly reminds me
to take another look!

Oh!  Here's your clock back homie.
I don't need it anymore.
Smash the things that bind you....
Steven L Herring Jul 2019
Perfeck
By Steven L Herring

Psst!
Wanna know a secret?
I got pimples on my chest
and a hairy back, too
Believe it!

My lungs are scarred
from all the cigarettes I smoked
and sometimes I can't sleep
since I'm always anxious

I'm a human,
so I've done a lot of terrible things
but my life is ******* perfeck
Just look at all the likes
my Facebook brings

All the bad stuff might
have hit the cutting room floor
but the negatives stuck to my feet
and you can see them stuck
from where my smelly ten and a half's
kicked open your front door

I've gone a million miles
and I got a million more to go
but I might die tomorrow
so I really don't know

Imma get there though
Even if it's just in spirit
And your little perfect life
is full of rust like a dull spear tip

I'm not trying to read it
Your feed is a wasteland
and all your silly little highlights
are worse than two broke hands

I'm not a fan
Give me ***** because that's real life
Keep your ego in your back pocket
and be a little more honest about your fight

Step into the light
Nobody's perfeck!
Steven L Herring Nov 2017
The devil is in your hands
Nickel cadmium to lithium ion
Twenty volts in a flat screen
Charge faster than a kid scream

**** the corn man
Pass the ****!
Live cam news feed
Fox kills the little sheep
while all of tv land
finger ***** little bo peep!

But it's her fault right?
She wanted that money
so her glitz was wide open to glam
Big fats old gold fingers
tantalize the youth with fame
Fantasize
Materialise
Realize the drugs
push past their big dumb
Cattle eyes
and turn a pack of wolves
into a flock of little sheep
All stuck in a little glowing six by six box
Hollywood
D.C.
Different cities
same fox!
Steven L Herring Mar 2021
Plague of Hearts and Minds
By Steven L Herring

Alone
I've always felt it
Crowded rooms
Human-filled hallways
Bars brimming with patrons

Everywhere empty inside
I could look right through
solid mass and see nothing
but emptiness and black

But now that we're altogether separate,
Trapped in our rooms
concealed
Carrying our will to live gracefully
like a burden in our hands
I now relish in the fact
that we're all here together
All of us willingly weeping
Shrouded
Crowded under the same
black
cloud

Ominous in danger
Dangerous together
I see you
slyly smiling from
across the room
and our eyes light up
while our mouths,
masked with paper and cloth
crack a secret smile

And all of a sudden
we're not alone
We suffer together
under the same black cloud
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!
Steven L Herring Mar 2021
Power From the People Y'all
By Steven L Herring

Born a battery
Watch me work
Take my cash
Never
Not
Once
but every time!

You're a bottomless pit
and I'm the ****** you created
Fed visually
Programmed for greenbacks,
but then robbed
It's a stick up
No one makes it out alive!
Shoot the ones sans masks first!

You push drugs!
Amphetamines are for kids
Sell me a house that I can't afford
PLEASE!  
Make me serve under your iron fist!
Puppet or pawn?
Depends….
Who won the election again?
Steven L Herring Jan 2017
Noises
Overcrowding voices
Well intentioned facts figuring
******* figurines who wouldn't move otherwise
Fondling feelings of all the innermost spaces
No peace left to think
No left of center
Nor right way to finish this

I'll hang my hat here by the fire
and watch it's hot embers turn into cool coal
I'll hear the hunters pass politely by
As the spring draweth nigh
I'll wave goodbye as the vines cover my eyes
and the dirt and dust film up over my thighs
and chest quickly cover with surface rust
I'll bury the lust of hot words spewed in anger and fears
under flowers budding ever quickly from evaporated tears

I'm powering down
Wearing a frown
Disenfranchised with it all
How can I stand out in a crowd dressed in clashing colors
All shouting at once?

I'm cowering now
Under the brow
Of an angry man spited;
filling with more and more teeth marks
as the days hours and minutes count down on an ominous clock

There's a crowing **** in the yard where we all gathered once
His call is raspy and no one is listening anymore
All the more reason to bury myself in the gardens or in the forests
Only to awaken when whispers overpower shouts
And hot angry words turn into fading water spouts
Steven L Herring Mar 2021
There's a power in presence…

I've heard that said before

And some of mine is mine to keep

But if I give some to you

When you're at your lowest,

Then my smile will light up

The darkest of nights

As I watch you climbing


There's a power in presence

And so I'll be there when you're

Near the end and I'll motion 

You to me because we all know

That it's not how you start a race

It's all about how you finish it

And you will finish it my friend

We'll see this through together

Because there's a power in presence

And I will be there to the end

My sweetest friend!
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