The Hearts of Dying Stars

There was a moon that night,
That shook my comfortable existence
On this little Earth
And as I looked at the stars
I almost lost my breath
When I remembered what great men had said
That I was made from the hearts of dying stars
All of me was not from here, but belonged out there
And as I closed my eyes
I realised that those twinkling lights
Were not just heavenly bodies
But like an ageing photograph
Were the ghosts of my family
Long since gone.

bobby stevenson 2017

Gods and stars

We were ruled by Gods and stars,
You and I,
What chance did we have?
I heard a man born with one song in his heart,
Lighten the woes of a million other lonely souls,
And I saw a woman with one story, tell it again,
And again, and again,
And we were all the better for that.

We never stood a chance,
You and I,
But still we tried our very best,
And looking into each others' eyes,
We saw a kind of hope.

We were ruled by Gods and stars,
You and I,
And despite all of that,
We lived,
And we loved,
And we were here.


bobby stevenson 2015
photo: www.roibal.net

The Time That's Left

There was once upon a time, when I put myself on a shelf for the sake of peace and quiet. Every time someone took a step forward, I took a step back. Every time they said something dangerous, I kept quiet, because I felt theirs was more the just cause. Every time they criticised, I let their hate increase due to my silence. But having spent so long on the shelf and realising the mess you have made of it all, I am no longer going to keep quiet, or step back. I am going to head off down the road and spend what time I have left on me. 

bobby stevenson 2015

Don't Hate, Just Love

It’s a very short life, 
And an amazing one, 
Full of miracles and caring,
With a universe or two, or maybe more, thrown in,
All decked out with black holes and sunsets,
And yet you chose to spend it hating,
And loathing, and hitting and shouting,
And name calling and abusing. 
Whatever this is, it's a short life,
And in your hating, 
You've missed the greatest
Experience of your existence,
Don’t hate, just love.


bobby stevenson 2013

100 Years From Now

dinosaur footprint  Texas Uni.

                                                

100 years from now, nothing of this life will be remembered,

Not you, nor I, nor once that we were here,

We only stayed long enough to scratch the sand upon the beach before the

Tide took back its own.

100 years from now, no one will know my name, nor care

That here I stood and lived a life with all those

Other nameless souls,

Yet we knew each other by the joy and sorrow

Trapped inside our eyes

And each of us took that remembrance to our graves.

bobby stevenson 2013/14

The Ghosts Of My Family

There was a moon that night,

That shook my comfortable existence

On this little Earth

And as I looked at the stars

I almost lost my breath

I remembered what the great men had said

That I was made from the heart of dying stars

All of me was not from here, but belonged out there

And as I closed my eyes

I realised that those twinkling lights

Were not just heavenly bodies

But like an ageing photograph

Were the ghosts of my family

Long since gone.

bobby stevenson 2013  

photo: 8track.com

In A Heartbeat

In a heartbeat,

The car turned the corner too fast, and turned over,

The last thing the mother did was scold her

Son for chewing loudly

In a heartbeat

The lonely girl bumped into the guy who was leaving

For good and she wasn’t lonely any more

“It’s funny how we met,” she told her children.

In a heartbeat

He smiled at her and talked about their next trip

And then the darkness covered the side of his face

And he slipped away from her

In a heartbeat

He scratched the lotto card

One hundred thousand it said

And that was the amount of friends he gained

In a heartbeat

He screwed up the cigarette and promised himself

That was that

And it was

In a heartbeat

The sun warmed his face and he smiled

And the blackness let him be for a few kind minutes

In a heartbeat

As she sat alone at the bar, a friend joined her and another

And another and in a heartbeat, she knew she was the lucky one.

bobby stevenson 2013

People Disappear These Days

That day on the shingle beach, as the warm salty wind blew

The towel into the back of the creek,

I looked away quickly to pull it back and shake the sand from off of it.

Your cup was full of hot tea and the plate with the sandwich,

- one bite taken from it - sat beside the strawberry jam.

I thought you’d gone over that large sand dune,

To catch one last sight of that schooner that was riding high

On the back of the crackling blue waves,

But you weren’t there. 

I asked someone, but they said no one had passed by them,

The police couldn’t find a trace, not of you or of anything

That belonged to you.

They started to think that you had never existed.

People disappear these days and no one notices, nor cares.

bobby stevenson 2013

Home

From where I sit,

I cannot smell the fresh sea air

Nor taste my salt encrusted lips

Or watch the swirling twisted mists

Cut through by masts of sailing ships

And headed for some outer bank to fish

From where I sit,

I cannot hear the choir of Gulls,

Who dart and shoot above my head

And screech a welcome in my ear.

“you’re home, you’re home,” they cry

“Rest well”.

From where I sit,

I cannot see the mountaintops of

Heather strewn across the rocks

Or heavy rain and waterfalls in rivers

Run beneath the bus and neon lights

From where I sit,
I cannot see my little town

- I am not there. 

bobby stevenson 2013

The Price

It is not the burnished gold when exchanged for a king’s ransom

Which holds the highest cost

Nor the glittering coal in shape of diamond that litter

Hills and valley sparkling like planted slivers of souls

Not even love itself can compare in expense and virtue

When stood against this other feast

For in the end, the dearest of all things under heaven is

The price of Freedom, itself.

bobby stevenson 2013

That Old Steam Train Has Left The Station (for D)

That old steam train has left the station for the very last time,
I didn’t even know you were going but I know it’ll be somewhere nice,
May be the sands of Morar or the pier at Mallaig.

That old steam train has left the station with only the driver onboard,
The one who looks like Robert Newton from Treasure Island,
As you toot your whistle, you’ll be filling in another crossword,
I betcha!

That old steam train has left the station for the very last time today,
And we were all the better for having been passengers on it,
Thanks for the ride pal, rest well.



bobby s.

100 word Postcards From The Past (1899)

 

Sailed from England and spent Christmas day on the high seas. Here we are in New York. Tonight we are all going to Times Square to say good riddance to 1899 and to welcome in the glorious 1900. We have all been guessing what the world might be like in the year 2000. Sally says we shall all be living under the sea and James thinks that man will travel to the stars. I reckon that we will be done with all that war nonsense, and everyone will be enjoying a peaceful world. Have a very Happy New Year. Spencer.

bobby stevenson

The Eye Of The Needle

He’s gone now, the old me,

And not with some big great goodbye

But with a whimper,

Somewhere out there in the wilderness.

To write seemed such an innocent idea

To discard the old and move on smiling with a dream

But there was a cost to it all,

And it cost everything,

And it took everything,

And the only parts of me that I can salvage from my yesterdays

Are those things which will fit through the eye of a needle.

bobby stevenson 2013

We Walked A Path Once

We walked a path once,

You and I,

And shared some gentle time while basking in the sun,

We walked a road once,

You and I,

Fighting with the storms that blew upon our way,

We walked a highway once,

You and I,

And dealt with all the loss and hurt that fell before us,

We walked the Earth once,

You and I,

And broke with everything that Heaven threw in our direction,

But now the time has come for the parting of the ways,

And you will take one path and I will hold the other,

And we will walk the Universe,

You and I,

But with other souls as company.

bobby stevenson 2013

1948 (in 100 words)

From that little room in the cold-water apartment you could smell Harlem. The top window being stuck open with the paint that was probably put on around the time of Pearl Harbour. Cooking smells danced in along with thumps and arguments from far off places.

I decided that I needed fresh air and I headed down to 8^Th avenue where the folks were drinking canned-heat and digging the sex and the sax. In the dark corner of one coffee shop was Ginsberg and Kerouac talking ‘bout this and that and not seeing anything of the outside world; God bless 1948.

bobby stevenson 2013