Neon dreams

neon dreams 

not what it seems 

inside a night shelter 

lines of snow 

dropping low 

on the helter skelter

run about 

down and out 

life beyond the rainbow 

know your name 

feel the shame 

dance on a volcano

neon lights 

high as kites 

giggling in the rain 

doorman stare 

you don’t care 

laugh at his disdain

ten past three 

bad company 

run from the Old Bill 

all alone 

lost smartphone 

crawling up that hill

moving on 

once upon 

another form to fill 

hope is gone 

can't go on 

every pill and thrill 

late at night 

broken light 

listening to the screams 

mentally broke 

ain’t no joke 

shattered neon dreams 

Steve Wheeler © 31 May, 2021 

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Entanglement theory

In time, we were entangled 

joined as one in quantum manner 

In space, you were my tether 

Quantum glue with added glamour

Like accelerated particles 

our clash was sub-atomic 

But now we are entangled 

our attraction’s anatomic

At my core I’ll always hold you 

In super positionality 

We know that I affect you 

just as much as you affect me

We’re at once both up and down 

We are bonded, we won’t part 

Your charm attracts my strangeness, 

 truth and beauty rule your heart

Our ties spread out like foam 

across our quantum galaxy 

I may sometimes be a p-brane 

 but your waveform sets me free

Steve Wheeler © 29 May, 2021

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Toxic

I’m in the business of breaking little hearts

I don’t care if it tears their worlds apart 

I’m out to charm you, will you step into my lair? 

Did you mention conscience? Hell, I don’t really care 

Watch as the seeds of my destruction grow 

Tell me something that I didn’t know

I’m on the lookout for new blood, constantly 

Baby, you’ll regret it if you get in bed with me 

Just one bite and the infection quickly spreads 

Stay around me long enough, and I’ll be seeing red 

I act like a friend but I’m really your foe 

Tell me something that I didn’t know

Never been conventional, I don’t walk the line 

Look once in my direction, and baby, you’ll be mine 

Although I look innocent, I’ll show you all my charm 

Make you feel my comfort while I’m doing you harm 

You agreed to this, when you should have said no 

Tell me something that I didn’t know

Steve Wheeler © 28 May, 2021

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Epiphany

The epiphany that came to me 

transformed my outlook utterly; 

pervaded every part of me; 

became my divine odyssey. 

What first began as jamais vu

was all at once a bird that flew

as I saw what I hitherto

had found elusive, rarely viewed.

My vision came in dead of night

a dream of ethereal insight.

I saw a city, gleaming white

wherein the streets of gold shone bright.

My vision next changed to reveal

a vast meadow of flowering field,

with sparkling streams of life that heal

and fruiting trees of constant yield.

A wondrous pathway next I trod

toward the Great White Throne of God

and there I saw with awe and dread

the One from whom all darkness fled.

He had the radiant face of Christ

full iridescent, shining bright.

His mighty throne, the source of light,

made heaven's stratosphere ignite.

A million million voices sang

worthy is He, the spotless Lamb,

Creator God, the great I Am,

Jesus the King, the Son of Man.

This glorious epiphany

came to my dreams, inspiring me,

for as I glimpsed eternity

I saw through faith my destiny.

One day I'll kneel before His throne

and there I shall cast down my crown.

In radiant robes of white I'll stand,

protected by His nail scarred hands.

Steve Wheeler © 27 May, 2021 

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That being said ...

It wasn't me that pulled the plug 

I wasn't the one who fired that slug 

I didn't key your new car door 

I'm innocent like I was before 

That being said... 

I didn't cause that vehicle wreck 

I didn't pass a fraudulent cheque 

I didn't spill that oil on your floor 

I'm innocent like I was before 

That being said... 

if I knew I could... 

I was nowhere near that broken vase 

I didn't break your precious laws 

I was out of town when they robbed that store 

I'm innocent like I was before 

That being said... 

if I knew I could... 

get away with it all ... 

I'm not a thief and I'm not a spy 

I have a convenient alibi 

It's not like I started the third world war 

I'm innocent like I was before 

That being said... 

if I knew I could... 

get away with it all ... 

I probably would... 

You can't blame me for the state we're in 

I'm not responsible for original sin 

You think I'm guilty to the core 

But I'm innocent like I was before 

That being said... 

Steve Wheeler © 26 May, 2021

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Overwhelmed

I am overwhelmed 

in Your presence 

when Your Spirit 

comes to rescue me 

It's a mystery 

how consistently 

my heart dissolves 

in ecstasy 

I cannot begin 

to tell You how 

You reach 

the very core of me 

You overwhelm me 

with Your goodness 

You, the spotless 

Lamb of holiness 

my innocent redeemer 

my long awaited saviour 

You overcome me 

with compassion 

and there's no question 

I am overwhelmed 

by Your undying passion 

Steve Wheeler (c) 27 May, 2021

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Presque vu

Just like the scrawled black birds 

that panic in the chaos 

of Vincent's yellow swirling sky

Just like Zimmerman's spoken lyrics 

that pluck and worry 

at your liquid conscience

Just like the man who walked 

a hundred miles only to realise 

he has lost his motivation 

Just like the thunderous chords 

and orchestral stabs of that midnight concerto 

you still cannot recall

Just like a profound parable of the Christ,

half glimpsed and only partly understood

Just like the Bard's immortal words

that are infused with unintended meaning

Just like the homeless man

with the thousand yard stare,

sitting like a statue on the old park bench.

Just like your dark eyes

gazing off into a grey sunset

where today's hopes were unfulfilled

but tomorrow's dreams are still alive 

and wishable

Just like the brown tinged petals

that have scattered, fallen

from the bride's bouquet

Just like the decaying wood

on the old garden gate

and the patterns discerned

in the peeling curls of its paint

Just like the imagined faces

in the white vapour

of the boiling, ever fleeting clouds

Just like the tears you shed

when hopelessly, you tried

to make your own way

Just like you and your dreams,

your hopes, your fears

Just like me ... and mine

Just, 

like me 

Steve Wheeler © 22 May, 2021 

Photo © Steve Wheeler

Ascent

My new book Ascent is all about love and heartache. As ever, it is available through Amazon and other outlets in both paperback and Kindle editions. Poets write about what they see and experience, and I am no different. The book features more than 150 pages of poems (and no illustrations). I thought I would give you a taste of what is inside, so I recorded a reading of three. I hope you enjoy them and consider buying the book!

 

When salvation comes to town

Society will be revised 

the revolution will be televised 

the changes shown before our eyes 

not sanitised, no compromise 

The violent struggles of the past 

will be no more, they will not last 

The people will repent en masse 

when our salvation comes to pass 

Hypocrisy will be unwound 

and tyranny will not be found 

for truth and justice will be crowned 

when peace our citadel surrounds

We’ll take our weapons, melt them down 

bury our failures in the ground 

uphold the good, raise up the sound 

when our salvation comes to town

Steve Wheeler © 18 May, 2021

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Killer Application

I’m the killer application 

inside your imagination 

I’m a virtual simulation 

I’m the eyes of the whole nation 

I’m a sinner and a saint 

I’m the slowly drying paint 

of graffiti on the wall 

I’m the pride before your fall 

I’m the earworm in your brain 

slowly driving you insane 

I’m your sick and dying planet 

I’m a mountain made of granite 

I’m the one who knows you best 

I’m the bullet in your chest 

 I’m a complicated theory 

I’m the sofa when you're weary

I’m your youth and I'm your age 

I’m the turning of your page 

I’m the inner city violence 

I’m the dread inside the silence 

I’m the eye of the typhoon 

I’m the rains of the monsoon I

’m the next man on the moon 

I’m the twenty-first of June

I’m an unknown constellation 

I’m your final destination 

I’m the vernal equinox 

I can open your black box 

I’m a raging forest fire 

and a dozen false messiahs 

I can bring you to your knees 

With a mystery disease

I’m relentless on my mission 

An indecent proposition 

I’m your future and your past 

and your clock is running fast 

I’m your killer application 

I wipe out the competition 

Nail your colours to my mast 

‘Cos it’s gonna be a blast

Steve Wheeler © 16 May, 2021

photo © Steve Wheeler

Message in a bottle

This poem is a message in a bottle 

that’s washed up on your unsuspecting shore 

This poem is a ticking cardboard package 

delivered to your quiet suburban door 

This poem is the baby in a basket 

that’s found abandoned in a church graveyard 

This poem is graffiti on a billboard, 

and reading it will catch you off your guard 

This poem is the traffic light that stops you 

when you’re in a hurry to get home 

This poem is the guest that’s uninvited 

the one who always wears that cheap Cologne 

This poem is the invoice you were given 

when you expected the products to be free 

This poem is that inconvenient moment 

when you’ve seen something you wish you could un-see 

This poem is your six am alarm call, 

the lightning bolt that strikes out of the blue 

This poetry was written to remind you 

there’s many in the world worse off than you 

This poem’s a reminder of the starving 

the homeless children and the refugees 

This poem points out the world’s injustice 

a poem that should bring you to your knees 

Steve Wheeler © 12 May, 2021 

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UFOs

In UFOs we put our trust 

those aliens who art in heaven 

Those flying saucers full of dust 

our daily bread without the leaven 

Our eyes turn upward to the skies 

in fervent hope of friendly rescue 

Our ears are full of welcome lies 

we whisper up a silent thank you 

In UFOs we place our hope, 

to save our planet from destruction 

Our troubles are beyond our scope 

so we welcome alien intervention 

Civilisations more advanced 

must have the answers to our woes 

Their technology will be enhanced 

so they could save us, we suppose

We see the strange lights in the sky 

and wish our saviours would arrive 

across the gulf of space they'll fly 

by interstellar hyper-drive

And as our world dies from our labours 

The truth is never all it seems 

We welcome you, our cosmic neighbours! 

Oh. What’s that? A laser beam? 

Steve Wheeler © 11 May, 2021 

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Dead poets

Dead poets will not craft their words again

their legacy lies only in their frozen verses

They find no space to write another line

once they are turned to dust or into ashes

Immortal only in their chosen words

their presence burns but brief on this estate

and we who walk on parallel pathways

are also subject to a similar fate

So wordsmiths, urgent may your lines be written

as time slips by and kingdoms rise and fall

May you catch and share your inspiration

No hesitancy must your craft forestall

While we are here inhabiting this planet

may we be passionate in capturing our lore

While we can, may we write truth to power

Once dead, the poet will arise to write no more

Steve Wheeler © 1 May, 2021

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