Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Her Take -28/06/2012


she told him

'take it like a man'

she had a better grasp of the concept than he did




Saturday, July 28, 2012

Hours Remaining -29/07/2012


the hours lost

making sure we keep everything




Friday, July 27, 2012

Saturday Morning Screen Door -28/07/2012


Good morning!

two cheerful women
door knocking as you rub your eyes
and tie up your robe
they're already well into a spiel
about all the violence in the world recently
(the world is Denver)

and without even a hint
of religiosity
they ask if you're concerned
about all this violence
will there ever be an end to it?

your uncovered yawn 
covers not telling them
that truthfully 
you're thinking
about some violence
of your very own

...right now


Ok, so the elephant in the blog is, yeah I'm back. Just spent the morning re-working 'Currently' from a few days ago. 

It was always the plan to go back through my facebook status updates and harvest them for writing material (as I have been doing for years ~ I tend to use facebook as a live scratch-pad, for better or worse). However with so much stuff happening the task grew and grew and got way out of hand ~ which is of course what 'Currently' is all about, for me.

Also, 2012 has been a very rough year so far, in terms of finances and relationships, and while this should have fueled the fires, I found myself too often hiding in a pile of DVDs and very little else outside of work. With my financial situation now stabilised again, and some major stuff out of the way, most notably shooting a tv pilot/short film with Smarty and some filmmaker friends (with a stunt-retirement announcement thrown in for good measure), I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things.

Anyway, I feel we're off to a good start with this new batch since 'Currently', and I hope to continue and push into some new areas.  I've been working on a book of poems about my experiences working with Asylum Seekers (oo I know, topical Randall?) that I hope to have finished by the end of August, so stay tuned there.

As always, knowing there's folks out there reading this in 7 or 8 countries helps (thanks analytics), keep emailing and commenting here, please believe me, I read it all, even if I don't reply for lack of time, sorry. Thank you or taking the time to do so.

While it's all personal, I write to be read of course, and the gift of your time taken here in reading, truly humbles me. Thank you.  Sincerely, 

Randall Stephens
July 28th 2012


Missive to the her-shaped hole -27/07/2012


miss her in the curve of some other girl's smile

in the half-awake intrusions
she makes across from memory
into my solitary sleep shifts

miss her in spaces I arrange neatly
around the absence
making her-shaped holes

still look like a mess

in a thousand laughing photographs
I can no longer look at

and on the outsider's edge
of all the in-jokes

I can no longer share




Thursday, July 26, 2012

Currently -28/07/2012 (redux)

I can't give you any reason that holds water
for the time it took
getting back to you

didn't want to come back shallow
leaking out lies
to get myself in this any deeper

I diverted the days
flowed them into weeks
they poured out months
now awkward unspoken volumes
sit vast and tepid between us
none of my excuses waterproof

things is I was gonna get back to you
still floating the idea
you'd been the one to go-to
with drowned out hands

reaching for you to flush me out
sunken in self pity
to tell it all-good again
save me from this flood

soggy now wearing out frowns
wet stain they call my face
the arms drip off of me
I'm all puddles by the footprint
cold through to my toes
and right out my eyes

look there
if y'wanna believe
how much tide I swam at
all I waded through
to keep fighting against


'cause it might look to everyone
I've been same-spot treading water
but rivers below know
I've been thrashing mad at it
been kicking undertoe
wrestling invisible waves
just to not
get swept away

I said in another poem
"I can tread water like there is even a grace to it"
I can't

I ate fuck
swallowed salt water by the lung
holding out against a swim upstream
that turned torrent
wanting to take a life

just not drowning
is as close to flying
as I get
right now

I was gonna get back to you
sooner than later
wanted to swim this

stronger than another sad story
before that fucking flood

washed me away, excuses and all


(ed: 28th July 2012)
So this is me, crawling back to the blog I've so long neglected, trying to get my groove back. This piece came out of nowhere, I just opened up the browser and started typing.  I was very much influenced by the closing line of Buddy Wakefield's Horsehead poem (about a flood) and I just ran with that for a while.

I don't think it's quite there yet, will keep hacking away at this til I'm happy. Thanks for reading.



Saturday, July 21, 2012

Degraves Lane -22/07/2012


stands as if all Melbourne does
under his favourite piece of graffiti 
"by definition a crush must hurt"

there breathing in an indifferent stink
from cardboard boxes bruised soggy
out of bloated dumpsters
leering over the puddles of run off
they cannot completely swallow
in their shadow
pools amber-reflecting his dead of night

came to make sure it's still here
take it all personally
and he feels welcomed
by stacks of milk crates
that tumbled into silence

keeping guard
on the words overhead
on a night

where they still stand