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stevepwales.bsky.social
Steve Poetry
@stevepwales.bsky.social
140 followers 37 following 250 posts
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 Husband, father, grandfather, dog owner, atheist, humanitarian, and poet.

All poetry my own, all photography my own - though from years ago when I COULD still climb that hill. 😞

From here to there, and a lot of shit in the middle. That's life.
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December 8, 2025 at 5:05 PM
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I don't need nor want the polished ones
With their swanky one-way ways
November 29, 2025 at 3:36 PM
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Like a soiled and sullied uncrowned king
The God of profit taints everything.
Poem about inequality
November 23, 2025 at 12:31 PM
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Look at this fucking shit
The world is on a string
On it's knees, doing gear
and puking up it's ring
Look at this fucking shit The world is on a string On it's knees, doing gear and puking up it's ring Collective fucking madness Shouting at the clocks Unpacking days, marking time And shitting in it's box
November 11, 2025 at 5:06 PM
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#poetry #blueskypoets #blueskypoetry #writingcommunity #PoetryOfBluesky #PoetryCommunity #PoetsOfBluesky #Poems #winter #spring #summer #autumn #seasons

Remember, the fallen leaves
in the frail end of the day,
must settling on the senses
like slowly falling snow,
as autumn makes it's play.
Awaiting the Sun Remember, the fallen leaves in the frail end of the day, must settling on the senses like slowly falling snow, as autumn makes it's play. Remember the darkened eve stalking the faltering sun, lifted then vanquished rays as the new night prances upon the embers of a day. Dream of the new born spring taking back it's recast crown, filling morn with nascent dew, strength growing by the clock, chasing old and frigid cold away. Come, my king, the leafy bough and larking bird in bright song, regain the day full brought high. Fill me with your brand new joy bringing forth your spring bouquet.
November 1, 2025 at 11:40 AM
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this is the story of a life
part one.
Poem about shyness. this is the story of a life part one. the birds flew south marked by the clock while the man below governed by chance jokers wild met her glance and upon a vaulting beat of the heart coyly turns to spurn the worldly ways of love while up above the birds flew south so he berates himself even a little hates himself and when a second chance to say, in a rain-refuge cliche, fails him again words of innocent love from inner voice remain a stranger to his mouth while up above the birds flew south
October 16, 2025 at 11:24 AM
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As darkness encroaches upon the day
And sun struggles to keep cold at bay
Poem on the subject of seasons
October 10, 2025 at 9:39 PM
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the ship awaits us all
invitation to another shore
upon the final boarding call
before the dark forevermore
Poem called Finale about bereavement. the ship awaits us all invitation to another shore upon the final boarding call before the dark forevermore soon the sails will surrender to the course beneath the veil we will wave as we remember the light before the pale taken by the gentle breeze we will watch them sail away till soon the last of life leaves in the dusk of their final day
October 8, 2025 at 12:29 PM
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She knows that once,
the man was hers to hold,
their flower was gold
Poetry about dementia. still gold Once he loved her like the day loves the sun, their story shone with lustful and zested life. They revelled in their vital lives: duality served, in singular love and caress, upon a word or look. Yet now, his stare denies her pallid heart and remaindered smile. Love lives now only in long laments for the golden flower, here in its final hour, as the weld dissolves, and the constant becomes dissonant once more. He can't recall her face. Nor touch, nor kiss, no moments in joy, no days of holding, nor needing her. No name comes to his lost lips, no smile for her, save fleeting greet, and again retreat to an unfilled mind. She knows that once, the man was hers to hold, their flower was gold when love filled their hearts and minds. With hopes forlorn that, perhaps somewhere in the painful voids of her lover's old and crumpled mind, a petal lies, still gold.
October 1, 2025 at 7:26 AM
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So she fakes wild,
thinks of the child
she's left at home.
Poem about poverty being the root to prostitution.
September 29, 2025 at 2:53 PM
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please don't ask me
to be the strong one
I can't fight the falling rain
Poem on the subject of cancer
September 22, 2025 at 8:05 PM
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Mental Health Awareness poetry Suicide Prevention poetry
September 17, 2025 at 7:00 AM
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now years
like a ticking clock
temporal shock
here and gone,
A poem about how time speeds up with age.
September 16, 2025 at 7:35 PM
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words,
even in their
finest clothes
full of grace
will fail to find
the beauty of your face,
September 1, 2025 at 12:43 AM
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can I recall my
ill chosen words
please
they chose me
not I them
Poem apologies can I recall my ill chosen words please they chose me not I them a moment of extraordinary juice shook them loose like an open sluice spitting long I was wrong too late now you're gone
August 30, 2025 at 8:40 AM
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Tick, tock, tick, tock, it's coming again.
Who's child is next to die?
August 30, 2025 at 8:31 AM
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It's all about
the pink.
Think.
It's all about the pink. Think. Is it me or they who drives the things I say? Do? Is it you? Or is it them, the people who shout the loudest, sound the proudest of their message?
August 25, 2025 at 1:10 PM
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August 24, 2025 at 1:48 PM
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August 23, 2025 at 4:16 PM
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August 21, 2025 at 2:10 AM
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August 17, 2025 at 6:23 PM
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Strength I wish I was much stronger With a never ending will Where possibilities abound Without a happy pill But I'm just fucking not I'm an easy broken mess If a glass is holding water Well, take a fucking guess. I need a drink to make it Through an average day And once the bottle empties There's another on its way. So leave me to myself I know this, it's my 'thing' It's just my fucking life, and Here, I'm the fucking King. Mental Health Awareness
August 16, 2025 at 6:13 PM
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#gangs #gangster #choices #ink #guns #knives #brotherhood
the Big sleep He makes his sign, displays his ink, wears his brotherhood like a deification and withers his youth as to the fire thrown. His is the life of the knife and gun, never alone, always his "brothers" by his side, 'cept those who died. His is a life of belonging to the life he leads, believing in creeds, the "brothers" by his side, 'cept those who died. There are others who, while never "brothers" are as kin as others, yet seem impervious to signs. They, the ones who choose a different path, walk another way, choose to think along different lines, they have their creed too. Stay wide of those who seek the breast of brotherhood and fate implied, ink for life, and gun and knife, 'cept those who died.
August 16, 2025 at 4:29 PM
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#poverty #wealth #benefitcuts #tories #ToryBenefitCuts #StarmerBenefitCuts

If only a Labour government was the saviour of the poor that it should be.
if you can see an opportunity in vulnerability if you see only cost in the lost if you see a revolving door in the helpless poor if your only cares are the billionaires and the bottom line is your only design if ninety-nine percent is the world you resent you're a Tory voter bar none If only a Labour government was the saviour of the poor that it should be.
August 15, 2025 at 9:19 AM
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#BloodSport #FoxHunting #HuntingWithDogs #hounds #FoxHunt
August 13, 2025 at 10:24 AM