Author Archives: sam

Dread Depending

Good day, all. Today is a day to think of the end of the world. What can you possibly do to avert such an event? What can you do when you have no control? What do you do when you are faced with the coming of the Black Crusade? Survive, at all cost. There are fates worse than death.

Atah’Zanadu, The Great Crusade

Sifting sands

Fervent bands

Marching with full hands

Through humble dunes to distant lands

“Hallowed be thy name,

O great god of arid plains,

Deliver us from our pains,

And wipe from us our stains”

Cleanse the infidel, purge the heretic

They sally forth in dark cascade

Were house and palace, now a single burning stick

They carry out this black crusade

“Your watchful gaze brings no attrition,

Your watchful gaze brings no sedition,

Your watchful gaze brings attribution,

O Lord, as we effect your retribution”

Burning fires, heat and cinder

Houses are ash, families are tinder

Onwards, onwards, unto the dawn

Each and every one of you, but a simple pawn

Busts and Buttresses

Good morning. Nothing, you see, has quite the same longevity as stone. It is ancient when you’re born, it is ancient when you die, and it will be ancient when your great great grandchildren die. When nothing else survives, so the stone goes and lives on. Always there, perhaps changing ever so slightly, but always there. You may not last forever, but your sculptures will. Make your busts and buttresses. They’ll outlive you.

Saga of the Stone

So too, do all things, turn from ash and bone

to dust and stone

It matters not if you atone

For all is ash as dice are thrown

Turning leaves with the rake

Doing all this for your sake

It matters not if you will break

For all is bone as beasts awake

As bricks and timber start to quake

There’s no time and nothing to take

Flee, my child, there’s no need to shake

For all is ash beside the lake

Answer, answer please, the telephone

I only wish you could have known

There is no need for terror sown

For all is stone,

And you are alone

Black Bangs

Good evening, friends. Busy day today, preferable for me. Posting from my phone on that account. Truly a blast. I have for you today a poem that I spent the last 30 minutes writing. I think you’ll enjoy this. Without further ado:

The Last Musketeer

How am I supposed to function

This pain in my chest

Beating heart, myocardial infarction

From which I have no rest

Rippling, rifting, sifting sanity

Robbing, sobbing

In the mirror, the vanity

For apples, we’re bobbing

Tubers and shoots

Zipping through my chutes

Down through my legs

And out through my boots

All my fingers

And all my toes

Slender digits, saintly timbre

Singing souls, lovely ghosts

All is cinder

Burning timber

Start from tinder

Detach the limber

12-Ilber horse artillery

Sound the cannon

Turn that pillory

Into a canyon

“All for one, and one for all,” said the first, said d’Artagnan.

The Wonderful Wizard of OH

Good morning! No matter what the circumstances of today may seem, it’s a good day. It is a wonderful little spectacular day. No matter how many hard days you have, no matter how many hard days there are, no matter what, today is a good day and so too will be tomorrow. Hard as it may be, never let yourself fall into the trap of not thinking it will be better. Thanks again for all the support all of you have shown me. It means so much to have my work shared with so many people. Keep reading, learning, and whatever else you do. Without further ado:

No Stairway! Denied!

Dancing ducklings and darting dalliances

No things of any particular saliences

And peace becomes our chief of ralliances

Serenity, serendipity, authenticity

if be you must then must you be secure in your hospitality

be the one who decries paucity!

be not the one who ceases matrimony

be not the one who pays alimony

be not the one whose persuasion is acrimony!

Find your pleasures in homophony!

and in pepperoni!

And in your grandmother’s zabaglione!

Through all this needless ceremony,

there is but one principal communiqué

Please, for me, just be happy,

and be okay

Peaceable Prognosis

Good afternoon! Today is a good day. It is ever so softly raining while being warm enough to walk around without a jacket. I have a lot to do today but I feel prepared for it. I sat beside my open window last night as cool springish air wafted in and over me. I felt strangely at peace. My worries had faded and the world seemed so much more right than it had in a long time, almost as if that moment would last forever and ever, infinitely calming. The world melted away and was replaced with a sense of togetherness I had not felt for a long time. I realize now that dreaming of peace is no fruitless endeavor. It is attainable, finally. Without further ado, a poem about losing your mind.

Mindfulness

therewithin

therewithout

extant sin

scream and shout

flies filed away

rife with decay

stagnant water 

mosquito fodder

crawling on your skin

skittering in your ribcage

visions of infernal djinn

that demonic necrophage

it lies behind, ever so slightly

pittering, pattering, ever so lightly

controlling cordyceps

hearing footsteps

when mind you’ve found

you’ve lost your mind