Monday, December 5, 2011

Time To Admit by Stephen Jarrell Williams

Something wrong
with all of us

time to admit

we can't stop
the suffering

too far gone
spin of our sins

web of machines
pressed to our flesh

underworld pulling strings

needing to look up
falling to our knees.

Published in Catapult To Mars- October 2011

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

The Rose by Stephen Jarrell Williams

A heaviness in the air,
all men turning over in their beds,
sweating in the sheets,
dreams like moon eyes,
silver scenes of something strange,

a quiet clearing,
surrounding trees listening,

opening our windows and looking out,
not enough reasons for all the horror,
not enough reasons to look for hope,

yet, we go on
with life inside us
sprouting up in the clearing,
a rose through the heaviness,
making its own heaven.

Published in Word Catalyst Magazine- February 2010

Monday, October 3, 2011

In The Morning by Stephen Jarrell Williams

We walk in a quiet march

under heavy clouds,

mist falling

mini pearls clinging to our coats.

The singing has ended for the night,

the song still in our minds,

our throats swore

by the meaning of the words.

Tomorrow we will be in the City of Cities,
all the world will hear.

We are some of the many

millions wanting

change in the kingdoms of government...

We move on,

our numbers blurring the sight of us...

Thunder rumbling in the distance,

countries beginning to bow.

Not enough bullets, or fire, or depravity

can weigh us down like the old days lying,

lying, so much lying...

We are no longer meek.

Our strength is our will

pushing down the walls with our flood of flesh.

In the mourning we will sing.  We will sing.
And they will listen.

Published in The Camel Saloon- January 2011

Thursday, September 8, 2011

The Grind by Stephen Jarrell Williams

in the rush unwillingly

crowd carried
trying not to panic

another day


by pretending
this is how it is


too late

bumping into something
you've felt
too many times

the grind
the irreversible grind.

Published in Catapult To Mars- February 2011

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Ravenous by Stephen Jarrell Williams

Father of blood-red fields,
you must be weary.

Haven't you enough of the dead?

There's certainly enough wounded...

Is your thirst unending?

It must be.
Here comes the silver jets.
The black bombers.

Your will is solid.
Constant.  Ravenous.

Could you at least consider
the women and children
huddled in their homes?

You're ruthless, aren't you?

The explosions are your laughter.
The fires are your long fingertips
probing the corpse.

Published in The Dark Fiction Spotlight- January 2011
Published in Mirror Dance- June 2009
Published in Black Book Press *

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Sister Revolution by Stephen Jarrell Williams

They killed my sister.

Hung her
on the side of the road.

An example
not to tell,
when you see
how they pull our strings
from birth to premature death.

She was a good girl.

Changed her clothes behind the door
leading the revolution.

She's still alive in spirit.

Her voice sweet
as a lioness at their throats.


Published in Deuce Coupe- February 2010

Monday, May 30, 2011

Back To The Beginning by Stephen Jarrell Williams

We're in a slow tumble,

The whole country a quack,
paying now and forever.

They say it's our fault.
Maybe it is...

Thinking of the kids...
We deserve to be stepped on.

But I believe
we can shake ourselves out of this.

Changing those at the top
to the bottom.

Going back to the beginning,
common sense and hard work...

A friend to earth and sky and self.


Published in Word Catalyst Magazine- February 2010

Thursday, May 12, 2011

FACE OF IRAQ by Stephen Jarrell Williams

Somewhere out in the dark
spiked sand-traps waiting

fingers made of frayed metal
ready to grab under the ground
face of Iraq

wanting to tear our flesh and snap bones

our truckloads rumbling into a town of huts
impossible to glide over their bulging veins

bomb blast
jerks the underworld
into our rubber tires

careening off the dirt road
we check our boots and balls

filing out into the hollow blackness
we take position
pointing weapons at whatever moves

but nothing moves in the now stillness
not even the breath of their buried mouths

we are civilized and chew gum
into the morning glare
our sunglasses peering across the gap of worlds

we spit and create storms
choking them with our dust.

Published in Deuce Coupe- November 2009

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

LOST IN IRAQ by Stephen Jarrell Williams

Never free
in the arms of the ice queen,

mopping the floor
with the back of your head,

you're grinning in ecstasy and pain,
humming that tomorrow will stay away.

You're flawed
with the war in your dreams,

your old outpost still
in the mountains of the penniless,

falling forever
into her eyes,

she keeps your stick swinging,
fingers cold,

multicolored in the spin of your room,

your uniforms in the closet
hanging above the sniffing rats,

they snuck in
nestled in her purse,

as she steals your nobility,
snuffs out your fire.

Published in Counterexample Poetics- 2009

Thursday, April 7, 2011

In A Dark Time by Stephen Jarrell Williams

In a dark time
within us and here,
we smooth ourselves over
with oil and gossip.

Beating our heels into the floor music,
paying more with less

Whistling old songs
like they'll save us.

Give us that shot,
vaccine against swine
boiled in the underworld.

There's not enough
lighthouses to cast light over the dying sea.

The fires are burning California.

Where's the great Kennedy from yesterday?

Only Dylan still has a spark to share.

We should march for something...

We're in a vacuum of overpopulation,
soulless mass,

in a dark time.

Published in September 2009

Monday, March 28, 2011

Clock Ticking by Stephen Jarrell Williams

This fit of time
to squeeze us
into a whimper of submission,
with its snake head,
bear's body,
vulture claws,
underdeveloped wings.

Wiggle loose...
Fight back with the vastness of our numbers.

Tomorrow is already here.

Published in Callused Hands- August 2009

Monday, March 21, 2011

No Man's Land by Stephen Jarrell Williams

You're shaking,
mumbling on

barren plain of smoldering

distant city
smoking ruins,

river full
boiling ash,

burnt boots,
hanging rags,

coughing hoarse,
chewing blood,

you survived the blast,
doomsday bomb,

searching mile after mile,
no woman to touch,

no holy house,
no sacred word.

Published in October 2009

Monday, March 14, 2011

Down And Out by Stephen Jarrell Williams

on the rim
of the spinning city,
at home in my dizzy whirl,
licking my computer screen,
dust of many,
buzz of more, more, more...

All the toxic leaders
soaking in mega tubs,
my lifeblood keeping them afloat
with my fractured family
and bent self.

Southland weather promising fire
sticks burning like pretzels,
salt of the earth leaving a slight stain
down the middle of the street,
shame, shame, shame...

I don't want to die just yet,
wanting to squeeze it before the crash.

I wanted what others wanted,
lost sight of the everyday glow.

The system corrupting.
My toes in the stir.
Round and round,
we all fall

Published in Shoots And Vines- December 2009

Monday, March 7, 2011

American Destiny by Stephen Jarrell Williams

Half the night listening to them
licking their fingers of barbecued chicken,

out my window they cover the earth
rolling their joints out of Bible pages
unafraid of dying,

a thousand tribes mingled and massed,
no remorse

America splitting,
tipping into two seas,

tearing down the middle: land, cities, people...

She made me tie her to the hood of my car,
naked and posing and laughing with speed

80 mph down the freeway
busting through tollbooths,
wind howling

going off the cliff believing she'll sprout wings.

Published in Rusty Truck- October 2009