Crossed, then crossed again.
A martyrdom of the cause,
Cutting one’s losses.
Levied until sopped dry.

Kept, cornered.
Closed inside
A dark, smelly room,

At once a prostitute
Of yearning and desperation.
Caught, sought,
Always, without mercy.

A deception.
Through a tunnel,
Without an entrance,
Or an end.

Underneath the inertia
Of a spinning mound
Of rotting souls.

“Stumbling along the sidewalk” much updated!

If you haven’t been by the blog in a couple weeks, please stop by and take another look. I have added a picture of myself, my name, a description of myself, changed the design (a lot), added a general email subscription link, as well as other links. In short, its a new site! I hope you’ll give it another try, and let me know what you think, either on the site, by email, or on other sites like Facebook and LinkedIn. Thanks for stopping by again!



close or develop craze
down reach aim angle
read vear forget trial
meander leave quarter
keep sword end seep
able sick wind sift
queer tend envelop in
on after aching took
aboard teeming arrest
take quick kick if
pound lever mere opal
salamander rude even
did eke dame must
lord seven around cut
climb better little oak


Slate morrow’s fallopian blues,
Quiet queer sending of select sameness,
Veering onto wide angular meek ate.
Venial rowdy caged quarters
Ordered below angels angry.
Sweet swipes sorted warts.
Please drink swiveling melodious
Mirrored music horror pebble.
Walk ward with leaves large leaped.


Only air in the fist.

Nothing to grab,
Nothing to save.
Nothing to stand on.

A foundation of sand,
Slipping into oblivion,
Through the shadows.

Hoping beyond hope,
That something comes,
Something changes,
Something reaches out.

Is it a lost cause to hope so?

To dream,
To caste a lot onto the dirt,
Counting on dim luck
To get one through some more.

Is there a chance at all?

“Stumbling along the sidewalk” now available on Facebook, Twitter, etc.

My poetry blog and comments posted to it are now available on Facebook, Twitter, Messenger Connect and Yahoo Updates!

What an amazing thing technology is! All at the touch of a few buttons.

My Tweets are available here: @gsbowman5150



Swift as the Wind

stash a sin here and there,
run so fast, you can’t see tomorrow,
or yesterday,
or here,
or there.

when–and where–are you?
do you envision
the consequences?
or just jump in?

a guess, a hunch, a feeling:
it’s all the same in the end,
isn’t it?

but what if it’s not?

what if regret only comes
when you listen to the whisper
in your head,
be it conscience, God, whatever,
and you ignore it?

what if you move so swiftly
you can’t hear the wind
blowing in the trees
as you pass through
the outer rings of the hurricane?

what if you drive your little hot rod,
a corvette on a highway,
or a speed boat in the ocean,
right for the center?

will there be a calm to the storm,
if you arrive in time?