Ode To Unlikely Lovers

poem

 

4d75fd2fa502e385d07d8da03dc1aa08

 

We,

my love,

are works in progress,

the once upon time that’s yet to live happily ever after,

we are gods and goddesses high on nebulas,

bartering planets ,

dwarf stars and comets for galactic favours

 

My dear,

we are junkie,

drug and overdose,

ambulance ,

car and crumpled post,

cold turkey, redemption, and relapse…

we are poems,

poets,

authors…

…. and perhaps..

because of that ,

we serve sentences …

lives on pages without parole,

phrases between bars,

and griots with tales untold ,

we toss watches off roofs to see time fly and bow our heads at its passing

(R.I.P)

 

My sweet,

we are misguided alchemists that have chanced upon gold,

Lady Luck and company for Misery,

a summers day thats cold,

we are memories past and a future unlived,

we are questions without clear answers…

 

Love’s favourite chancers….

 

 

Lidge Stephenson ©

 

(Illustration courtesy of Pinterest ©)

Advertisements

I think of you

poem

 

1731de12ec07597756da1c9e30a08354

I think of you,

soft to the touch,

a dream made visible to the eyes,

sweet to the tongue…

 

the uneasiness in your stare…

me losing myself in the galaxies you call eyes,

me losing myself

and

rediscovering the beat of my heart

syncing it to the dip in your stride,

the pitch and tone of your laughter…

the laboured breathing of satisfaction

….after

 

I think of you,

vulnerably naked,

mottled wet,

Demerara brown…

 

I

think

of

you…

 

The eye in my storm

that sees the intent of my heart…

 

I think of you…

then again,

it seems I always do.

 

Lidge Stephenson ©

(illustration courtesy of Pinterest ©)

Save Me From The City (Metropolitan Madness)

poem

red_lights_by_daroz-d7kuqyu

 

In nights depths

the metropolis speaks,

If you care to listen

there is the murr murr of neon signs,

hurried shouts of car horns,

the lingering diatribe of car engines arguing with streets halved by broken lines,  promises and hearts,

there is the sound of youth,

still-born wishes that breathe and walk unaided, messages of rebellion and revolution carried along corridors of asphalt by the wind:

nature’s high-speed wireless connection,

 
and

 

I,

am disconnected,

like trees planted along streets,

ungrouped,

un-forested,

all is man-made,

I wish to remain natural,

I wish to speak my mind at 1am to neon signs,

to the sleepy-eyed busker singing “Done Got Old“,

and quiet car horns ’cause they constantly interrupt one-sided conversations of my points of view

so

I point to you –

the un-signed street ,

the untaken path back to virgin mountains and air I can actually breathe.

I want to inhale you;

have you circulate in my soul and reprogramme this mind..

of mine..

make it yours,

make it natural..

I wish to remain natural.

 

 

Lidge Stephenson ©

 

(Illustration courtesy of daRoz @ deviantart.com)

The Versatile Blogger Awards

awards

img_0208

 

“They like me….they really like me” – but seriously, it is a total surprise being nominated for “The Versatile Blogger Award”.  Thank you Grabbety Covens (check him out – all round cool guy with verses to spare) for appreciating the “codified ravings” that I happen to post when I’m able and for nominating me for my first award.

Uncommon Verses – “WHO the HELL is he?”

  1. A transplanted Jamaican living in London , surviving the travails of weather, underground travel, work and the yearly dose of Winter Blues.
  2. Oh! I do have a name – Lij O’michael Stephenson (Yup! A seventies child …someone WAS smoking something…Ahem!)
  3. I love music (and am a musicophile…don’t worry I got my shots and it’s not catching…Trust me!), am prone to breaking into a hum or three with or without my trusty sidekick – my headphones…..LONG LIVE VINYL! (Erm…pardon the outburst)
  4. I am regarded as an “introverted extrovert” and an “extroverted introvert” (not my phrases at all!) –  I guess that happens with the seasons or something.
  5. I am in love with expression of various types and as such, love art – contemporary, surreal, photorealistic, installations, tattoos (Yeeees! Thats art!)…and a lifetime ago, use to lose myself in sketchpads, paints, inks, airbrushes, B pencils, spray paints, paint respirators, exhibitions…….and museums.
  6. Love travel….and once found (and lost) myself in Cuba for an extended period (I do natter on in Spanish …on occasion)
  7. Walking contradiction: love old American cars/pick ups …but am able to launch into a sililoquy about sustainability/ recycling et al and the harm being done to Mother Earth. (Heeeey….fixing up them old machines is recycling…thats my defense…)

 

The Nominees are :

  1. The Budding Ken
  2. The words untrammelled
  3. Grabbety Covens
  4. ALYAZYA
  5. Frank Solanki
  6. Muse Mars
  7. Heartstring Eulogies
  8. A Writer’s Soul

Sorry guys! I know I’m supposed to nominate 15 bloggers and blogs I’m following or recently discovered but that’s the amount I’ve been able to…..so far.

The Rules :

  1. Thank the person who nominated you for the award
  2. Include a link to their blog
  3. Write seven facts about yourself
  4. Nominate 15 Blogs or Bloggers that you’ve recently discovered or follow regularly, which you think are excellent bloggers and deserve some recognition. Include a link to their blog.
  5. Inform your nominees of their nomination.

To nominees, bloggers, word aversed, muses and muse whisperers

Congratulations! You’re constantly adding to the dialogue of soul and heart while dealing with the deluge of thoughts and the monsoon of feelings you encounter. Continue sharing as it encourages others to come in from the cold.

Lij O’michael

 

 

 

Your House

poem

I wanna live in your house

– Steel Pulse.

watchmaker_house_by_arsenixc-d9dv2ge.jpg


 

Invite me in,

I’ll treat this residence with deserved reverence,

lead me along its serpentine halls,

allow me to paint love’s portraits on your recently plastered walls,

let me marvel at ceilings high like escaped wishes,

stare wide eyed at well kept antique fixtures and ornamental fittings,

permit me to peruse the dusty attic and ferret my way through labeled boxes:

(be) Longings

(mis) Giving

show me your secret enclave,

let us open heavy curtains,

get drunk on moonshine while sitting on wooden floors holding conversations,

hands

and

a seance,

raising our own spirits like over protective parents.

Just let me stay…

with you… in your house.

 

 

Lidge Stephenson ©

 

(Illustration courtesy of deviantart.com ©)