M. Stephens Hall INFJ
M. Stephens Hall is the author of The Other Boy, a memoir about navigating his son's brain tumor and special needs as a sensitive, intuitive father. He is an INFJ, a father of three, and a technology professional who has spent decades processing the world by writing it down. Ink & Gravity is where that processing takes the form of poetry — compressed, imagistic, and unafraid of the dark. The work here is spare by design. Every word is load-bearing. He believes some truths are too precise for prose. Poetry is what's left when everything unnecessary has been stripped away. What remains is the weight of the thing itself. Some things leave a permanent mark. This is where those things live.

Love Incapable

Are you incapable of loving me? As a cohort, comrade, or family. You chopped me up like a cherry tree. Then sent down your verdict, GUILTY IS HE!   You

Where Clouds Go

I saw a bird fly overhead today. The wind had authority. Then the urgency of the clouds grabbed my mind. This fascination for freedom reigned down on me. As the

One-Walled Prison

Wait, was my responsibility your fear? Why did you anoint me high above this bewildering sphere? How is such a thing even purposefully given? No! I do not accept it.

Soul Shock

I stand on the plains, stars floating high. Arms raised in a V. Let me fly, I plead! OH GOD LET ME FLY! I cry…   I fall to my

The Little Things

It’s the little things that resonate. Like subatomic fusion, the profound effects permeate. An ounce of energy spent. But the returns brimming with endorphins emanate.   This undeniable phenomenon bursts

Self Anointed

You sit there shallow as a one foot pond. Shadow boxing in the mirror, an intimate bond. Wait, let me get that chair for you kind sir. I wouldn’t want

Cuts like Ice

It flows like ice through varicose veins. Stings like jellyfish with lasting pain. This blunt force trauma that feels so permanent. Lacking love, grace, and time well spent. My perspectives

Ever Glow

Evil walks these streets in the foggy, warm night Snatching souls meticulously in a wretched, horrid plight But the beaming light has no agenda, as it blasts through the air

Veil of Disgrace

She visited my slumber and caused confusion. I turned and whispered: This must be an illusion. Thoughts abstracted and words turned to mush. She sat there in silence, consumed by

Moon Zen

I have been to the moon. That quiet, lonely place. Where stillness and silence dominate.   I have processed the pain. As overthinking took hold. My heart in custody. No

Societal Trope

Who are we that we can leave another person in anguish and despair, hurting? Leave them broken and in shambles after they’ve plummeted from a great wall? How do we

Come Cry With Me

Come cry with me Let’s lose them all in another dimension Let the tears crawl slowly, sensing uncertainty in a cold dark world Avoiding eradication, like a spider on the

Clouds Behind the Moon

The little Martian men Haven’t lost their way. They’re simply on a journey To a warmer place.   One small step for me A giant leap for you. This must

Forceful Iniquity

Forceful iniquity As you step on my land. Thinking you own What you don’t understand.   Sometimes a hero Is a bit underrated. By kings, even thieves Or souls deeply

Reign of Error

When our beliefs and expectations influence our behavior at the subconscious level, we are enacting what is known as a self-fulfilling prophecy. A more formal definition of self-fulfilling prophecy is: A

The Ink

The octopus emerges fluidly and slowly from a tiny crevice in the wavy ocean floor littered with sand. A beam of light powers its way down from the surface, illuminating

Sanguine Debt

The mosquitoes bound in a vanilla sky. They lie in wait until day is nigh. They’re drawn to my dermis and flowing sweat. While concocting distortions of sanguine debt. They

Conflagrant Concept

High above. On angel’s wing he’ll soar. When evil attacks. Like lion’s prowess, he’ll roar! Send all you have. See his striations. Feel his flex. Ice cold blood. Striking strength.

Future Felt

The lines on my face are deep and winding canyons. Which lead to a past of a million emotions. A baron river that used to rage. With depths unseen in

Time as an Ally

I hide away in this magical cave. Where time stands still and I’m always brave. A place of peace and energy saved. No digital defecation or early graves.   An entrance

Rocket Booster Blaze

My heart rages fiercely with fire. All the power of rocket booster rush. Gold rings form in a defensive stance. Passion goes vertical in a contiguous crush.   Each breathe

Subconscious Avarice

Sitting in this cave. Flatline ringing in my ear. Deranged propeller revolutions. With a condescending sneer.   Purpose paused. Things to do. This wall seems to come alive. Dots begin

Ignoble Oaf

We’re bad-asses until humility slams through the door, confusing our feelings, disarming our motivations, and electrocuting our souls. Arrogance grabs hold. A sudden and overwhelming feeling of helplessness falls upon us,

River of Regret

A river of regret rolls down her face. As this crater of truth stands in the way. Chest tightens up and breathing pronounced. Beautiful colors now stifled in gray. Years