Jump to content

east coast steve

Members
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Community Reputation

10 Good

About east coast steve

  • Rank
    Member
  • Birthday June 3
  1. Haven't been around in quite a while.... Noticed there are almost 14,000 pages in the Forum Member list, wow! Went back and checked when I joined there were only 100. Glad to see this place has grown, a lot of other forums from way back have withered and died. Steve
  2. this is one of my favorites: Conception I met a beautiful girl at a gig in the city. Raven haired and ruby lipped. Her ivory skin set ablaze with technicolor tattoos. We talk and connect. She asks… and I tell her… I carry my tattoos on the inside, revealed only to those of my choosing. Her eyes pull me forward and the space between us slowly disappears. Lips meet and she becomes poetry. Stephen
  3. Haven't been around in a while.... Release There's a wolf in my bedroom closet. Kept secure under lock and key, hidden from view, and forgotten by his pack. He claws at the door and fights to escape on lonely Winter nights when strong drink stirs my soul. I feel for him... trapped, and cut off from the forest where he used to run wild. I am tempted to release him... to let him tear out my throat and taste my blood, to let him return to the dark woods of his past. One turn of the rusted iron key will change both of our lives forever, but only if I am strong enough to commit. His snarls call to my desire as the latch swings free. Crimson footprints fall on virgin snow. His howls echo under a silver moon, and we are one in the shadows. east coast steve
  4. Have been neglecting my creative side for too long... time to begin again. Conception I met a beautiful girl at a gig in the city. Raven haired and ruby lipped. Her ivory skin set ablaze with technicolor tattoos. We talk and connect. She asks… and I tell her… I carry my tattoos on the inside, revealed only to those of my choosing. Her eyes pull me forward and the space between us slowly disappears. Lips meet and she becomes poetry. Stephen
  5. After getting bombed with requests to post submitted poems on the No Rules Press site, I’ve decided it would be cool to give my readers a chance to strut their stuff for all the world to see. I’m going to be putting a punk anthology together, and I'll be selecting thirty of the best to be a part of it. Thought some of you might be interested in taking a shot, so here's the link: http://norulespress.com Looking forward to the places you'll take me. Stephen
  6. Feeling a bit overwhelmed today...thought I'd share: S.O.S I am drowning dry land, in thin air, a thousand feet above sea level. Not a drop of water touches my skin, and still I struggle to catch my breath. Debt and responsibility hold me under, and refuse to ease their grip, but I will not go down easily. Fighting rising tides and crashing waves, I snatch quick breaths between the swells, and treasure the fresh air that fills my aching lungs. These small breaks to the surface are what keep me alive. They grow farther apart and shorter in duration, but I know they will come again, if I am willing to swim strong and hard against the dark currents of suburbia. Steve
  7. another one from the dark places... Dead of Winter Untouchable, and unapproachable. Her cold stare fixed and unable to see my true intentions. A chrysallis of ice cannot hide her beauty, but it insulates her from my touch. We are seperated by miles, and yet we share a bed. Days and nights pass, wasted, into the abyss, as I watch and wait for the tiny fractures; signals of the Spring thaw, that will release her warmth and bind us again in the Summer of our love. Steve
  8. longan suggested I post these here...hope they click for some of you. Succubus I can feel the evil in her subtle movements. Hear the anguish beneath her smoky whispers. See the darkness behind her ivory smile. But, I can not look away, or leave. Blackness wrapped in purest silk. Skin, smooth like bullet proof glass that warms to my touch. She knows my weakness. I’ve chosen my poison, and drink deep from the well. No regrets. No turning back. Only desire and release. Until the end of my days. The Well When the words won’t come most guys stare at a blank page and wait for it to happen. There’s no inspiration on an empty page for me. But the hands that hold the pen and pad are my salvation. Worn and scarred. Days of dirt, and nights of blood. Dipped in oceans and calloused by fire. Smooth against the small of her back or clenched tight on her ass. First to fight, and aching to create, they speak to me in the silence. Kaleidoscope Are there colors that we fail to see? Hidden in the dark places, shadows in our minds. Red Orange Yellow Green Blue Indigo Violet and all their spawn fill the world. But is that all there is? I hope not. Others have used this palette for far too long, and while beautiful things have been created, I am bored with society’s rainbow. Give me a chance to bleach it from the sky, and I will paint in hues that have yet to see the sun.
  9. for the masses... Kaleidoscope Are there colors that we fail to see? Hidden in the dark places, shadows in our minds. Red Orange Yellow Green Blue Indigo Violet and all their spawn fill the world. But is that all there is? I hope not. Others have used this palette for far too long, and while beautiful things have been created, I am bored with society’s rainbow. Give me a chance to bleach it from the sky, and I will paint in hues that have yet to see the sun.
  10. another .... The Well When the words won’t come most guys stare at a blank page and wait for it to happen. There’s no inspiration on an empty page for me. But the hands that hold the pen and pad are my salvation. Worn and scarred. Days of dirt, and nights of blood. Dipped in oceans and calloused by fire. Smooth against the small of her back or clenched tight on her ass. First to fight, and aching to create, they speak to me in the silence.
  11. Thanks longan. Thinking I'll post up a few just for the hell of it.... Succubus I can feel the evil in her subtle movements. Hear the anguish beneath her smoky whispers. See the darkness behind her ivory smile. But, I can not look away, or leave. Blackness wrapped in purest silk. Skin, smooth like bullet proof glass that warms to my touch. She knows my weakness. I’ve chosen my poison, and drink deep from the well. No regrets. No turning back. Only desire and release. Until the end of my days.
  12. Thanks longan...I'm still tweaking the site as I learn more about adding structure and content. I see what you mean about moving the logo over...I put it on the left with the intention of filling the "white space" with additional cover art as I release more titles. I'm on schedule to have the next volume up and running soon. Thanks again for taking the time to check out the site. Steve
  13. August 1st, 2004...when they pleyed the side stage at the Curiosa Festival in Camden...was an awsome set in front of a small, but really into it crowd...put the Cure to shame. Steve
×
×
  • Create New...