Vitality

Alert, in
Love with
Interaction;
Vitality, coursing through
Every neuron.


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub's 5/7 Open Link Night, where poets are encouraged to link up a poem, read poems by others and comment when moved to do so.

FM Ghost, the book

Dear friends and readers, I am beyond thrilled to announce the publication of my first book of poetry, FM Ghost. The paperback is available now via ALL CAPS PUBLISHING. Order your copy here.

Most of you are by now familiar with the tone and style of my writing, but here is a preview of the book: "FM Ghost is a poetic journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance. With a heavy theme of mortality, this debut collection by Denver poet Steve Shultz is both introspective and observational. The book's three sections – Within, Without, and Within (revisited) – explore themes of darkness and light, love and fear, hope and despair, grief and joy, life and death. FM Ghost is about striking a balance in a world of opposites."

I'd like to give a huge thank you to Marian at ALL CAPS for having me aboard. Here's what she has to say about FM Ghost: "ALL CAPS is beyond pleased to announce the publication of FM Ghost, a substantial (despite its title, heh) poetry collection from rock-star poet and journalist Steve Shultz. please join us in congratulating Steve by clicking and picking up your copy. if it helps, reading Steve's poems totally ups your coolness factor. check it out!" You can read more from Marian at Runaway Sentence.

 Thanks for reading!

Shards

With fist
I am smashing
rear-view mirror,

looking forward,
trying not to cut
myself on the shards.

Brackish Back Itch

whittle me
a wooden whistle
I'll fiddle you
a melee missile
construct me
to give a fuck
implore you
to what for

twiddle me
a thumbless compliment
belittle you
a subconscious sediment
destruct me
back to Eden
still I'd pluck you
from that tree

s t r e t c h my limits
in a cold embrace
trading flesh in thoughtful massage
for a brackish back itch

implore me too-
what for?

A Poem by My 6-year-old Son

the pants

tell the shirt

you might want

to get out

of town

the shirt said

you might want to get

a key
to unlock
this book

the mouth said,
to the nose,
you might
want to get some
tree planting
in your nose

the nose said
you
might want to
get your lips
some
tree food

Malt Liquor

Malt liquor, 8:22 a.m.
Capitol Hill alleyway;
a lot left to be desired

Spring in Denver

First day of spring,
Mile High City;
ball-numbing cold