poem: a loose tooth hangs

poem: a loose tooth hangs

(161 words) July 2018

by Steven R.A. Markin

 

a loose tooth hangs
from his mouth.
the other teeth are perfectly
inline.
he wiggles the tooth and pulls it,
still attached to inflamed gums.
trying to ignore the stinging
and the nuisance of the tooth,
he carries on walking
on a sunny Saturday
afternoon.
a black bus with tinted windows passes
as he walks the sidewalk.
screams of cheer,
younger voices,
like the ones, he goes to school with.
the bus turns into a gas station,
a couples guys exit,
blue jeans and black shirts,
staggering.
more guys looking the same,
walking much the same,
following,
inline.
a few females,
and then a few more,
skirts and booty jean shorts
all in plaid shirts
tied at their waists.
all the same
all inline,
still screaming with cheer.

the man pulls on his tooth,
detaches,
a little blood,
a little sting.
“i never did fit in,” he said gripping his tooth while walking up a hill listening to the cheers quiet.

 


my acrylic paintings for sale

20180714_153837.jpg

poem: uncle george

poem: uncle george

(339 words) July 2018

by Steven R.A. Markin

my photo album knocked over, and pictures fell to the ground
memories scattered on the floor,
and one stood out
that I haven’t seen in years,
and sadly,
I haven’t thought of you in a long time.
It is from ’88,
i was two-years-old sitting next to uncle George.
You had both of your legs in the picture,
a large gut,
and you were looking at me smiling.
I am smiling and looking away.
My hoods up,
and your jackets not done up,
we were in Edmonton
on a bench.
You use to take me to the falls
we would feel the water mist,
and hike,
and climb,
as high as we could.
sometimes we would take my cousin, Candice,
but we know you loved me the most.
Did I tell you that she nearly killed me
by kicking a boulder down the mountain,
well, it bounced over my head,
she bought me bags of candy to keep quiet.
whoops.
don’t worry,
she also tried to teach me karate
to fight off my bullies.
honestly, though,
I can’t seem to remember much,
I remember each time you visited,
you went from a cane with one leg,
then to a wheelchair,
with no legs.
I recall you being lively with your words,
fun and energetic when I was around.
Dad says that you were a bullshiter,
who lied, but meant well.
I think you owe him 20$.
I remember us getting the phone call,
and we got in the van and drove to Edmonton
from Calgary that very day.
We didn’t do that for grandpa,
Ray,
or Grandma.
I remember the room being dim,
Auntie stood next to the bed,
and Candice.
I was young, but they all said you haven’t spoken,
not a word from your mouth.
You looked at me, and Auntie said
that was the happiest you have looked.
I walked over
and you spoke.
I never heard what you said,
and it has bothered me.
But maybe Uncle George,
that was the point:
now I listen.

 


my acrylic paintings for sale

poem: purple

poem: purple

(132 words) 25 June 2018

by Steven R.A. Markin

i was told that purple represents passion
i respond by saying, once it goes purple
you know you have been passionate.

passion resonates deep within
an energy that needs to be attended to
properly.
an inclusion to the world
an intra-
and inter-
connection.
we would be so much better off
than having more than just a month,
June
to celebrate.
the streets are celebrated,
the lives are celebrated,
the lives matter; they have always mattered
and will always matter.
there is more to life than what we have been told
allow the energy deep within
be proud,
be bold,
and celebrate
each and every day
much like in June,
allow the passion
not hate
to pave the way
like rainbows to gold.
so each and every person
can walk,
dance,
and be included.
there are more colours than just purple.

poem: kaili – a college crush

poem: kaili – a college crush

(233 words) 25 Jun 2018

by S.R.A. Markin

i recall the silence between us
after being friends for a while,
many years back.

we would find comfy spots,
go for coffee, and chat in between classes.
you were upgrading to be in kinesiology,
and oddly, that is what i ended up doing.
you spoke a lot about your son and your
love for rugby, and how much you like
beards and plaid.
i mostly listened and made jokes,
which is probably what made it work.
at home, my girlfriend was accusing me
going on that i am cheating on her.
she didn’t know about you,
until one day i told her that i have a friend,
you.
you talked about Goon being hilarious
so you lent it to me,
and guess what,
after two-years,
and a lot of fighting,
that is what got us to break up.
i got my shit, my dad helped
and we got the fuck out.
the next day, you waited by my locker
because that Russian boy was hitting
on you. i told you that i just broke up
with my girlfriend
you got upset
and started hanging out with the Russian.
we stopped talking.
and the year after, you were in my math class,
we both got there early most days,
and stood,
not saying a word.
we never talked again.
but i thought of you when watching Goon
with my most recent, now ex-girlfriend.

Fund stevenmarkin.com

Your donation goes towards writing, editing, publishing, and keeping stevenmarkin.com going. Your generosity is greatly appreciated.

C$3.50

poem: a lonely man

poem: a lonely man

(81 words) 23 Jun 2018

by S.R.A. Markin

this man would take pictures of
nearly everything
and hold onto anything
he would worry
and worry
and hold tightly to his worries
even during the best of times

because he once had someone
who touched him with kindness
and showed him happiness in being himself
he takes another photo
although there is nothing
and she no longer stands starring
so, this man takes a picture of
his broken smile

and there were no more pictures taken from this lonely man.

Fund stevenmarkin.com

Your donation goes towards writing, editing, publishing, and keeping stevenmarkin.com going. Your generosity is greatly appreciated.

C$3.50

poem: alien

poem: alien

(100 words) Originally written 3 Jan. 2018

By S.R.A Markin

i lay in my bed
staring at the wall with a blanket over my head
i wouldn’t dare look the other way
they can sense these things
i won’t get out of bed
and walk either
they will only try to grasp my ankles
and pull me under.
drapes cover my closed window
my night-light shines the corner of my room
and casts shadows elsewhere
they play tricks on me.
i lay here for most of the night
trying all kinds of ways to sleep
mom says that my friend is an alien
from the United States.

 

Fund stevenmarkin.com

Your donation goes towards writing, editing, publishing, and keeping stevenmarkin.com going. Your generosity is greatly appreciated.

C$3.50

poem: 1:39 a.m.

poem: 1:39 a.m.

(163 words) 23 June 2018

by S.R.A. Markin

strips of ham from a package
the floor cracks beneath my feet
sandals smack the soles
as i creak down the stairs
cast in shadows
from my headlamp
two cats lay at the bottom
a box moves, another cat strikes the lid
i close the basement door behind me
quieting my brother’s snores from the next room
above.
sliced cold cuts of ham
sizzling on a little frying pan
over a kerosene blue flame
sitting on a desk
two cracked eggs
and butter,
bread being toasted.
a candle lit
and decaf orange pekoe
with sugar
real sugar
real white sugar.
placing the plate down,
next to the computer
i sit on a stability ball
the room is dim
the monitor projects
pages
words
so many of each
more words than pages
i press the large protruding keys
on my wired keyboard
i work with what i have,
and i refuse to work for anything else
so i am a writer
at 1:47 a.m.

 

Fund stevenmarkin.com

Your donation goes towards writing, editing, publishing, and keeping stevenmarkin.com going. Your generosity is greatly appreciated.

C$3.50