Steven Stone

I am originally from Flushing, Queens. I went to Queens College and graduated in 1973 with a B.A. in Drama & Theatre. I began writing poetry when I was in high school. Also I am a painter, starting from about 1969. I have been published in many online magazines and some print magazines.

TIME.

Leave me to my devices.
Take a long journey.
 
*          *          *
 
Time is a grifter. He takes you
bit by bit until you are
empty, then seeks another
victim.
 
How do I make friends
with time?
 
I wave my hand to time,
acknowledge its powers;
 
The clock runs forever,
we do not.
 
Clock on the wall
Will fall.
 
*          *          *
 
Save the night for
simple pleasures. Drift
into sleep with the sounds
of rain.
 
Set your souls down by the
river, walk into the river
and pray, quietly;
 
Sing the unfinished
symphony of your life
 
Before time punches its clock

ODE TO GREEN.

Green
is good; leaves like old men
brown with time but green says
wait
 
I
am planting
exquisite green in my sleep;
when I go to dream green accompanies me
jumping in my bed with its long
vines
 
Old
man bones
turn to green Which green will
it be? Can green
discern my personal
truth?
 
I
awaken to a
chartreuse green day,
free from the scowl of
night
 
Lightning
fast I will turn to green,
fit in with the chlorophylled
world, where all
colors come to
play,
 
Under
the blue poem that is
the sky, my green love
outgrows its clinging
ways

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