Hi all, my apologies for not letting you know beforehand. I left today for vacation and most likely will not be back until Sunday. I may post some writing that I do on the trip once I get back, but I will not be posting again until then. Thanks everybody for reading and sticking with me!
Category Archives: Understanding
My Own Deuteragonist
Wouldn’t it be nice to have a twin? Someone to sit by and be just like you and understand you on a level no one else can but just different enough you never get bored? I’d like to think I’d have a pretty good time. Please enjoy the poem today, compadres.
Who-tagonist?
There I stand at center stage,
peering out at the audience.
Silently watchful, ever careful.
I await a most precious applause.
Fiddling with my belt,
I tremble at their fickle gauge
as I am held by steely gaze.
I play a most important part
standing there at attention,
giving my most dogged monologues,
and begging for the crowd’s affirmation.
They don’t see the shadows in the audience,
or behind the stage.
They only see the light that trains upon me its great weight.
Come up close and then you’ll see,
Not my face but a mask it’ll be.
All this praise,
and all this love,
but look again into my face.
Don’t you recognize the porcelain?
At last a clap!
My worries melt away.
Not a man, nor a beast,
but now an icon.
I wouldn’t want to disappoint the fans!
Dreaming Of The Sea Again
The same dream again. I see the sea so close by and yet… It remains so far away. Miles and miles I could trek and ever still would not find it. One day though, I will find my place beside the sea. That place where I intend to laugh and play and hear the gulls. To smell that sweet sea air. Peace, well deserved.
Origami Heart
There abounds my heart,
fluttering, flying, floating down
and lightly alighting on the sand.
It looks as if a paper gull,
origami,
that ancient art.
A folded page in the shape of that
thing which beats beneath my breast.
So light and so airy,
held there by the breeze,
as if some old fairy.
No wishes to be wrought.
All I’ve got is what I brought.
Smell the salt and brine,
reminiscent of cheap wine.
Written there upon the page,
a memory perhaps,
or some old adage.
Can’t quite catch!
If only I could read it,
perhaps I could remember
how the world was lit.
If only for a little bit.
Into The Jungle
I dream of having adventures in faraway lands with faraway circumstances. Perhaps I’ll leave, taking only my stetson and the clothes on my back. I’ll go and leave and finally be me. I suppose we’ll see. Enjoy the poem, friends.
Friend by the Falls
I see there in the distance
a waterfall
and the road that winds,
leading up to there
through the trees.
I can hear the crashing.
The water hitting the rocks.
Past the point of no return.
Hot sun above
and sounds of the jungle.
How can you feel?
How do you feel?
I only feel that pounding
of that water on the rocks,
resonating through my core
It’s sundown now.
A jaguar stands at attention.
I ask the cat a question as it watches:
“Hello, friend. Who is that reflected in your eyes?”
“I don’t recognize him,”
I whisper so sweetly so that only the ears of a predator might hear me.
The jaguar stares on,
looking as if to speak,
but it turns away.
There will be no answers today, friend;
you must find you yourself now.
“Goodbye, friend,” my words saunter off into the darkness.
In A Haze
Woken up again, I find myself responding to the light and to the chirping. To the stimuli, as I should. To all things, as I have before. Perhaps I must change again? I am too much the same as I’ve been, floundering in that sea of doubt and sameness that continues to rise and rise until it rests just below my chin. It stops there and waits, knowing I know of it and what I feel about it. Knowing the anxiety it causes me. Cognizant of the fact that its sentience and salience terrify me like nothing has terrified me before because, simply, the idea of stagnation is equitable in my mind to an endless torture. I find that hell would be preferable to purgatory in that I at least derive some comfort from knowing my torture, rather than not knowing my fate. Please enjoy the poem, friends.
Waking Up
Sick again
I keep doing this
I don’t know
It hurts again
I keep a head
Always in cycles
Moving in circles
Wondering why I did that same thing again
Why i laid my head to rest on that same lap again
To find my roots amongst the trees
And my legs against the seas
Tired of finding that i have weak knees
I’ll don my tricorne
And I’ll set off
Or I’ll set sail
And go there far beyond the pale
As friends and foes sit and wait,
I find myself not resigned to this fate
For it’s with destiny that i have a date
Poems by Sam 