May 11, 2019 | Gus Stevens, Rhymed Couplets, Spring
They say to write what you know, but what if there is nothing left to show? Nothing to paint but green on green, and all there is to see—already seen. No fresh petals curl up from the dirt, and meaning hangs like an ill-fitting shirt: stretched and shrunken, thin and...
Feb 4, 2019 | Aging, Dream, Gus Stevens, Hexameter, Multi-Syllabic Rhyme, Sestet
Legs stirring before the alarm’s tormenting beep, I wake from strange dreams in the autumn of my youth, and choke on broken promises I meant to keep– a sludge that settles to the bottom with the truth where bottled thoughts belch the foam of cold fermented...
Nov 23, 2018 | Gus Stevens, Humor, Rhymed Couplets, Winter
This dull and wintry day is still a weeping grey. But with the turning of a dial perhaps I’ll force a smile by conjuring the warmth of June against this gloomy afternoon. Like a bored cat, I linger. I boil water with my finger. Yet, despite this warlock power, I...
Nov 4, 2018 | Gus Stevens, Pentameter
The wandering sermon has run too long and yawning congregants rise to their feet while a quavering singer strains his song, aching over the chorus he repeats repeats like a lonesome widow worrying the stone of long desires that she cannot quite complete despite...
Oct 21, 2018 | Gus Stevens
Never have I seen blue hills above the green ripped from their bedrock and thrown into the deep. And will I ever? But have I passed through the needle’s eye? Camel that I am, reborn among the sheep tramping out again to die. Image Credit to Abby Laux For more...
Aug 21, 2018 | Alexandrine, Daughter, Grief, Gus Stevens, Hexameter, Love
The little girl did not know what he was at first— the yellow thing that did not drop if you let go. Still he filled her with so much joy she’d either burst or grow wings so she could float with him through the air. He smiled from above while she laughed along...
