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Steve Souza Jul 2
DRESSING
DRESSING DRESSING
DRESSING DRESSING DRESSING
DRESSING DRESSING DRESSING DRESSING DRESSING
DRESSING DRESSING DRESSING DRESSING DRESSING
steak cheese crouton steak cheese crouton steak cheese
crouton steak cheese crouton cheese steak crouton cheese
crouton steak cheese lettuce crouton steak cheese
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BOWL BOWL BOWL BOWL BOWL BOWL
BOWL BOWL BOWL BOWL BOWL
BOWL BOWL BOWL BOWL
BOWL BOWL BOWL
Silly visual 'poem' inspired by a recent trip to a salad bar and how unhealthy  dominates.
Steve Souza Jun 25
Sun-blanketed sheets,
a crumpled map of us,
our bodies
a single braid
beneath.

Yesterday’s coffee
- cold -
but still enough.

Dust waltzing
in the slanted light,
each one
a tiny planet
taking flight.

Your breath,
a slow rhythm
on my skin,
quieting all within.

No need for words,
no need to see—
just this
slow
breathing
symphony.
Steve Souza Jun 3
At the water's edge,
a discarded candy wrapper—
kiting upwards—flitting, flittering,
rising, rising,
falling, falling—
before dancing with the waves.

Waves lap their lullaby
along the shore,
then slip
back to the sea.
The shoreline breathing
with each wave's retreat,
this slow pulse
of land and sea.

In the distance
an orange sun melts—bleeding fire
into a waiting blue.
Minnows skip through the shallows—
sun and shade silvering the fish
in flashes.

A heron calls once.
Then silence,
as a lighthouse's white pulse
traces the rocky shore.

The candy wrapper brushes
against a figure,
a shape,
a shadow,
before floating away.

The figure turning—slowly, barely—
cradled in the rhythm of waves.
Gently pulled by the current,
softly pushed by the wind.

A seagull's feather falls—on pale skin.
Resting a moment.
Before cool water
washes it away.

Everything drifts…
bobbing,
bobbing,
slowly,
slowly,
out to the ocean.

And so it drifts—
this body,
this drowned man,
traveling slowly
to his new home.
(This is one of three companion pieces exploring the same story from different perspectives. "Drifting" tells the narrative, "The Taker" speaks from the ocean's voice, and "Man" captures the man's perspective.)
Steve Souza Jun 6
Your coffee rings still
stain
the kitchen counter.

Pinned maps
of the vacation
we never took
         hang
                             crooked
  now.

Our pictures on the wall.
Shrines
to what we once
were.

I hold your forgotten
t-shirt —
this stubborn map
of you.

My fingers hover over
the 'send' button,
before
falling
into
my
lap.

Night seeps through
these windows
and your memory
burns.

Flashing
like
broken
film.
Steve Souza Jun 12
I ever was
but tomorrow
more
(A short poem/mantra of self-love and hope for all on hellopoetry that are going through difficult times. You matter!)
Steve Souza Jun 11
stamps today.
One for you,
one for me—
and I crossed
my fingers
for clear skies.
Steve Souza Jun 10
I read four words today.

Just four.

But their weight
stills
me.

I bow my head and
turn them
in my hands.

What are you asking me?
What are you trying to tell me?
What do you see?

I fold the paper.

I close
my
eyes.

Just four words.
(Part of the 'Four Words' collection. The other work is called 'I Wrote Four Words Today')
Steve Souza Jun 11
The river knows what we were,
cradling our summers.

I remember you, girl by the river—
fifteen,
sun-warmed,
eternal.
My ghost in summer.

You laughed, and the river paused…
Barefoot,
dancing,
your brown skin
honeyed in the sun.

All the words I could have said
the river
swallowed
whole.

Sometimes—
when I close my eyes—
I hear the songs we used to know...

You, oceaning the shallows;
Me, a shell
on a distant shore.
Steve Souza Jun 9
I wrote four words today.
Just four.

I bleed my hours into them.
Each syllable
I
weigh.

Like lifting stones from a dry riverbed,
turning each
over
and
over,
until one feels just right
in my hand.

Carefully
carving,
studying
and playing
with each one:
  Which catches the light just right?
  Which plays well with the others?
  What are you trying to tell me?

But mostly,
I discard.

Four words.

All my labor for the day--
Just four words.

It was a good day.
(Part of the 'Four Words' collection. The other work is called 'I Read Four Words Today')
Man
Steve Souza Jun 3
Man
I feel
nothing now.

But once—
the sun was fire,
the water cool.

Once…
I heard the wind.
I felt a feather.
I swam.

Once, I fell in love.

But now just this drifting,
this drifting,
away.
(This is one of three companion pieces exploring the same story from different perspectives. "Drifting" tells the narrative, "The Taker" speaks from the ocean's voice, and "Man" captures the man's perspective.)
Steve Souza Jun 16
The morning melts
like sugar
into first light's
pour.

Your touch
lingers
like
honey,
And your breath
plays me
like your favorite
song.

Behind your eyes
silence,
caught in glass.

No need for words,
no need to see—
just this
slow
breathing
symphony.
Steve Souza Jun 25
From scattered
grains of sand,
dunes arise.

And from a single seed,
forests grow.

Neurons fire,
blind to the
symphonies they sing.

Droplets form rivers
with no single drop
Aware.

And your touch
ripples silence
into storm
Steve Souza Jun 12
like the things
that you said
(A short poem/mantra of self-love and hope for all on hellopoetry that are going through difficult times. You matter!)
Steve Souza Jun 3
I do not mourn.
I take what comes—
feather, plastic,
skin.

I wrap them in salt —
and silence

The man did not ask
but he drifts now
with the others—

The fish, the feathers, the gods.
(This is one of three companion pieces exploring the same story from different perspectives. "Drifting" tells the narrative, "The Taker" speaks from the ocean's voice, and "Man" captures the man's perspective.)
I remember.
Sweaty palms,  
Cherry bombs,
Sunday Psalms,
Your whoopin’s mom.
And I remember you...

Summer breeze,
Swaying trees,
Trembling knees,
Friday tease,  
Searching so
desperately.  
I remember you...

Do you feel the rain?
Yesterday’s rain.  
Yesterday’s rain.

You...
Met you cussin’
on the old bus,  
Lovely and delicious,  
Sketchy and suspicious.  
You - addictive and contagious…

Hoping you would notice.
Know this,
I remember you...

You..,
Thinking I’s a wise guy,  
Beautiful and wide eyed,
Giving me the side eyes,  
Wearing faded tie dye,
Ripping on your side
guy.    
I remember you...

Do you feel the rain?
Yesterday’s rain.  
Yesterday’s rain.  

I was really reckless.  
You were simply luscious,  
I could not resist us.  
I think you
stole my necklace.

Know this,
I fell in love
with you.  

I got your number, baby.
Dancing in the summer baby.  

But, you -
not falling
too...

Do you feel the rain?
With love there is
no justice.  
Just this
pain.  
And yesterday’s rain.  
Dancing in
yesterday’s rain.  

Yesterday’s rain.  
Yesterday’s rain.  
How, I fell in love
With you.
This song is best listened to - not read.

Music Video - https://youtu.be/vtVHcRGWLLI?si=yVcLnf_sMqjdUg3S

Also on Spotify.

— The End —