Wednesday 21 June 2023

Three Poems by Steven Sibra




Meanwhile, we while away

hours, mine and yours

eyes closed, clothed in fumbles

lives crumbling like blue cheese


on soggy cracker dust –

couple swallows of water

an absolute must, rust

wringing like toggled bells

inside a bourbon heart,

in this manner we pass our days,

in this way we stick like glue

together, crumble apart  





we used to climb trees

there were rules on it

only in cemeteries

only in spring

apple blossoms

mulled wine after

in a room filled with colours

of fall


she carried pebbles

in her pockets, each night

she would pull them out

her hands were small and silent

I liked to call them birds

copper in tone, so peaceful

when the bells in the chapel played

we made love in the cooling sand

outside the villa, southern exposure

another rule


her breasts so small and firm

like pomegranates ripening

under solace of nurturing suns





like skeleton

of baby bird

crushed by the heel



in the blue mud

of emotion



like an egg

cold in forgotten nest


I stand humble under

full moon, short

of breath, blind


I ask a lonely crow

so high in night’s sky

to forgive me


the impurity

of the forlorn

love I feel

STEVEN SIBRA  has been creating poetry and short stories for over 40 years.  His work has appeared in many journals, newspapers, magazines, a couple of broadsides, and no doubt on more than one outhouse wall.  A native of Big Sandy, Montana, a town of less than 1000 people and the most eclectic little burg in America (check it out on Wikipedia), Steven resides in Seattle.  His book of poetry, SHOES FOR BABY, was published in 2022 by Swallow Publishing.

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