Author Archives: sam

Drifting Down The Styx

Good morning! To do good, to do evil, which do you strive for? Which do you avoid? Imagine for a moment, a world in which you choose to do neither. You live your life wishing you had made another choice and in the end you wish you still had choices to make. Imagine living your life so as to have been sent to the Fields of Asphodel.

The Fields of Asphodel

cloaked and faceless figures drift around you

aimlessly

formlessly, shapelessly

drinking from the river lethe

you are no one, not anymore

glancing down,

glossing over grey grasses

flattened under foot,

softly swirling dust devils

tickling with soot

you do not hunger

you do not thirst

you shuffle, without suffering

no atonement

no respite

your mind a haze

you’re caught in a daze

almost, in the distance

you can see… something

too hard to focus

you’ve lost your locus

crossing beneath vaguely outlined equidistant aqueducts

already forgot, always forgetting

you did not good

you did not evil

and now the consequence

you’ve arrived at the boundary

of the fields of asphodel

A Kingdom for a Kiss

Good morning, my most ardent friends and followers. Happy Valentines Day! What better a day to think of ones you love and ones you loved. Hoping nobody is alone today, but if you are, just know I’m thinking about you. Without further ado, I have another poem today that is very special to me. I hope you love it as much as I do.

Valentine

my little dove, so perfect

of my heart, eternal prefect

i look upon you and i see

most beautiful reflection, born as eve

porcelain, glass, and alabaster

i only wish that missing you

could end a little faster

so that you can see me too

emerald eyes and rosy cheeks

looking out at birds with beaks

seeing you in clouds so high

wishing staunchly that i could fly

to see you again

to venture through that dreamy glen

seeing trees

and spying bees

all with you, my little dove

always with you, my forever love

Exciting Times.

Afternoon, everybody! Super Bowl is going on today and as a Cincinnati resident, I have got to say that I am incredibly excited. Tonight is gonna be more fun than any game I’ve ever watched before. Now, in the spirit of watching from afar, I have a poem about the very thing. Not a particularly long one today but I’d hope it resonates with you like it did with me.

Watchers

many times i have looked into this mirror

never before, in the dark

i peer into this shallow silhouette

lacking outline

betrayal of a third dimension

stalwart, formidable

the sight of this black hole man reveals no truer insight

simply feeling

vacuum

absence

void

he watches

waiting

always waiting

in the dark

Total War

Good morning, all. I find myself lacking a lot of motivation today. A fighter who lacks the will to fight. What do you do when you know there are so many battles ahead of you but all you want to do is slink into the woods to be a mushroom farmer? You become a writer. Enjoy the poem today, gang.

Thereupon

verdant fields

broken shields

shattered spears

tired fears

i lie upon this wild green

cradled by red-soaked grasses

shivering and shuddering, unseen

worried i won’t find my glasses

shallow, fluttering breaths

we understood not our trespasses

blinded by ancient shibboleths

now enveloped by black masses

without mouths they scream

frothing lips and gnashing teeth

gnawing at my every seam

come, come, come, they seethe

smoke rising from a burning bush

bayonets and boot knives rattling, clattering

once i pricked my finger upon a rosebush

i don’t remember so much blood spattering

far above within the clouds

a face i see so fair and free

yet i lie broken on these grounds

having incurred one final fee

it starts to rain

a gentle mist

as terrors wane

a calming tryst

thereupon those verdant fields

Je ne Parle pas Français

I don’t speak french. How can I say it any other way? It’s hard to be understood in a world where communication hardly ever makes sense. Harder still when most of us speak a different language. Half the time it’s even when we speak the same language that we can’t understand each other. I think I find myself more and more able to understand people that I can’t understand more than the people I technically can. How’s that come to be? How’s that come to faux pass? Amusez-vous bien, mes petits poissons rouges!

Hallowed Fields

all these holes never filled

soil never tilled

fields lie fallow

foul beings draw tallow

the wight’s barrow

overseen by the sparrow

filtered through shadow

not quite so bad, though

evermore, nevermore

love lost, forevermore

i spin a spider’s web

with ariadne’s thread

my head’s spatter

as crows gather

caw, caw, caw, they shriek

ever so softly, i hear them speak

above the moon in sky so high

stars above they crowd and sigh

holes and holes they lie unfilled

fields and fields they lie untilled

dying, dying, dying, dead

hanging on, by a shred

something heard, something said

lying awake, in my bed

weathered flying dutchman’s creak

hold thy tongue, lest thou speak

head in hand, turned to beak

some forlorn feather, some antique

the crows they shriek

and shriek they speak

help us, sir, best you can

i’m sorry, friend, my biggest fan

“i’m sorry,” cried he

“it’s alright,” lied she

a clever hand

some sprightly band

fallow, fallow, fallow, fallow

pirates waiting for the gallow

crying, spying, so slightly dying

“i don’t miss you,” she was lying