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.


In the tides of
a million waves

the massive owl-eye
of a moon forgotten

the water of a brain
against the pylons
stone and deaf

Like Quasimodo
the grand illusion
of sound

and the gnashing
of swords

and sounds of

against the pylons
deaf as stone

the moon remembers
its waters

blinks its
blinding eye

forgotten in the
waves of a million

radium girls.

Nights are blessings
Nights are things
dreams to place on night tables


watches are made to
rest in chains of gold

those that worship time

hands that glow in the dark
sickness that the night
doesn’t recognize

or sympathize

Lips that touch things
that glow, the giant
eyeball of the villain

light green,

death green.


Casting bolts of sun
my smiling eyes upon you
dream away the storm

In blue/green circles
horses run the barren fields
Do they notice us?

Naked strides of green
what shakes the stallion’s fly-tail
shadows leaning deep

riding on the slim
explore the canyons of time
naphthol crimson eyes

a familiar burn 
as tangerines in my eyes
molt their weary rinds

this is no sweet game:
orange and citrus curses
leave their acid mark

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