Monday, January 4, 2016


©  2016 Steve King
All rights reserved

These nights are never empty;
There will be a beat
to mark the waxing moment,
a drumming note to fill
each dreaming space.

But I will never know
if I am hearing or intoning,
listener or speaker;
or if the moment falls an idle thing,
tolling out the faint remains
of conscience staking claim.

I cannot say how any dream is held,
nor how it disappears,
nor whence it springs to hover briefly near:
always some unseen vantage,
where one may not follow.

But its pull is always felt,
and whispers well
of things that I should know,
or would have done,
or might desire,
just so.

Unmetered psalms of my own brief,
echo through the reflections—
all moments that suffice to gather
such a soul as mine.
And all the well-worn hopes remain
that one day they shall bring
a kind of peace.

Were I the sainted kind
I might make orisons of these,
curry spirits with incense,
beatitudes and hope,
even that singular one
to banish every doubt.

But the moment brooks no prayer,
and I must rightly stretch the word
to feel akin to any kind of grace.
I understand:  not every moment needs a name,
that triumph rarely may sustain,
that laughter clings but briefly to the air,
while seas of tears do nourish our domain.

And every moment shall renew.

Even love,
and every friend,
may only for a time be true.

The quotidian march
upon this spinning place puzzles:
every start and end will seem the same.
A humbling passage to embrace,
but should it measure happiness or care,
I know that I shall always march again.

Alas there are no ready gods to blame,
though unseen voices gather near;
though whirlwinds clamor at each turn,
to shout me down,
but never to explain.

A new poem for Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads


  1. What a stunning conclusion... How can we ever find a path where gods will shout you down. I feel like I see breadcrumbs on the forrest floor...

  2. I really like a poem which begins with a good, strong statement and yours is such a great platform for the remainder of your piece.

    I understand: not every moment needs a name... Is another great line and, as Bjorn points out, your conclusion is very powerful.
    Thanks for sharing your work in The Garden.

  3. I love the way there is a hum in the silence and a presence I feel when I'm alone. I think your poem addresses this place like the silence in between each word. Magic afoot?

  4. very introspective read.
    lots of important questions to ponder! :)

  5. stunning...
    good luck

  6. Ah, lovely--this leaves a lovely feeling--not so much because of the content, which has a kind of pain too, but because the cadences are just so beautiful that there is a sense of resolution and sigh in the reader. I am especially drawn to the passages about dreams--those are just so carefully drawn--the whole poem is--but those are so absolutely accurate and easy to relate too, but really articulate in a way that is unusual in the context of those matters--really really well done (and I'm not someone that is a clear rememberer of dreams!) I also love the part that begins with unmetered psalms of my own brief! (Well, I'm a lawyer.) But it is also again so true--I do not think that kind of peace is attainable for me, unless i make very big life changes! (Which I just don't hardly feel capable of.) But the poem is very inspiring in that area-- anyway, thanks--it's terrific. k.

  7. "I understand: not every moment needs a name,
    that triumph rarely may sustain,
    that laughter clings but briefly to the air,
    while seas of tears do nourish our domain."

    It is all a golden read and I love this part in particular

  8. A lovely measured cadence to this Steve, that is almost Shakespearean in its complexity, yet also full of clarity and harmony--even if the clanging dissonance outside ourselves is a threatening perpetual presence. I especially liked ".. or if the moment falls an idle thing,/tolling out the faint remains/of conscience staking claim...' and the passage Debi quotes above. Each has a sense of purpose that redeems the desert we trudge through to an unknown and possibly quite meaningless end. Great to read your work, Steve--as always.

  9. I love the message and beautiful flow in this Steve!

  10. A mesmerizing piece that needs to be read a couple of times to catch all the subtle nuances.