Drinking Alcohol taught me how to fly
Then it took away the sky....

Thursday, July 30, 2015

The Turning Point

Turn Around, Boy

As wild child
he rode the trails on
horse named “Silver”
Yup, as in Hi-Ho

After--still a wild bloke
first of his peers
to drink booze, smoke,
and enjoy solo sex.

In first grade, engaged
in the second, it was said
...he wed.

Skip many years
thousands tears.
Bodies, hearts,
bloodied, broken,
mended not...

One fine morning
in strange city
after playing several days
with chic kitty,

Sadly rode away once more.
Silver now had two wheels
upon which he soared,
leaving behind a sweetness.

Into mobile he mouthed
“I wish to come back.”
She--”Where do you live?”
“In the south”, spoke he.

“Sir, turn your bike around,
 face the southern sun.
And RIDE, Clyde—RIDE!
Never you roam from home.”

Wild child no more 
rode 'til his ass was sore.
In every life, strife...
In decision, indecision.

AH! Those turning points--
which way to go?
To the north a cliff
straight down to hell?

Kept on keeping on.
Still sober in October
To face sun's heat
...and more.

True life
is of the soul--
not of self, now old
as chunk of mold.

Former deviant,
my body a gift 
which GOD had sent;
a thing borrowed...
and lent....


Wednesday, July 29, 2015



What else so vital

as that which is the only?
And unrequited

Does Creator feel?

He--Who gives and gives as we
live lives unreal?

--steveroni, July 29, 2015