Wanderlust – Poems by Sam

And So I Watched The Stars Go Out

Hey folks, got a longer piece for you here. I’ve been posting more to my substack, so check that out if you wanna. Some reposts of older stuff and such. Trying to get to 50 subs! Looking good so far. I’ll leave a link here: Substack. Without further ado…

And So I Watched The Stars Go Out

I thought myself at once some forlorn Knight Errant, one whose dreams of far-flung places and ancient treasures were lost to the excruciating romance of being just above mediocrity. I believed for so long in a world driven by the fantasy of it all, lost in my own and others’ designs. I flailed at the thought of never living, and found myself destroyed more-so by the idea of an un-living and inevitable death.

Where then was the adventure that my child mind had promised me? Where then were the lands of green and gold, lands untouched and unbound by those now-thoughts of index funds, and taxes, and real, unreal relationships. I am burdened by these thoughts of unbidden uncertainty that cloud my mind and keep me from my place among the stars.

Do you feel now that we as a generation are less strong, less capable? Am I lost because I am weak? Uncertain and unclear because I am less resilient? Is not the world harder to be a part of than it ever was in times before?

I find myself drifting in and out of sleep. I wish for a world where things are not easy, but more possible. I wish not to face the accumulation of decades of falsehoods and failures that came before and instead be evaluated by the strength of my character, and boldness of my intellect. I dreamt once of a world that was governed by laws and dreams alike, a world my parents told me was and could be.

That world seems to have gone, forever changed into the nightmare of now. I wish not for the same, but better and evermore, forevermore. I wished upon a star that came, asking after a life they said would come.

And so I watched the stars go out, one little twinkle, and then another…

Adventures End

Good afternoon, everyone. I have another poem today (shocker). I really hope you like it. Without further ado…

Adventures End

There and back again,

as in the style of old hobbits,

we go and have our big adventures,

on our quest against the dark.

We fight with swords,

we fight with knives,

we sail on ships

and meet old wives.

We’ll tread along the untread paths

and we’ll make friends

and we’ll make enemies

and we’ll fight the dark

and we’ll never lose

till the soles fall off our shoes.

And then will come the cobblestones

that form the path to home.

Why have you fought all this time,

but for to see that little village

and that spongy loam.

Now though,

that you are home,

what is it then?

The thing you must do?

When tyrants bend

and adventures end,

does it all simply go back to normal?

Who is this one that stands before you?

The same one?

The old one?

No, I don’t think so.

Amphora

Good morning! I’ve got a poem inspired by ancient greek history for you today. It’s been one hell of a year for me so far. I finally graduate in December. I suppose I’ll have to change the About Me page. Exciting! Without further ado…

Amphora

Empty vessels,

these amphorae,

they stand the test of time

with so many stories

laid upon their old and tired skin.

They tell the tales

of long-forgotten ails,

of ancient whales

and ill-remembered pales.

On them are the histories,

the scorching, burning blisteries

that would assault you

at a touch.

They care not for you today,

locked in everlasting clay,

locked in everlasting decay.

Blood trickles down the face

of an ancient warrior

entrapped by monster’s embrace.

Entranced as you are,

you cannot stray,

you cannot look away.

Not from the sight of such dismay.

Crimson pools at its base

and soaks your filthy shoelace.

Perhaps there’s something to this old and empty place?

Battered and bruised,

you’ve made good on this chase

but coming to a head,

now you’ll realize that there’s just far too much red.

Waning And Waxing

I often look up at the moon when I chance upon it in the night. Nothing to me is so beautiful as that bright orb hanging there in the sky, alight atop the clouds. Perhaps one day I’d like to go up there and see what it’s like for myself. Until then, I offer a prayer to the goddess Luna and her many blessings. Please enjoy.

Luna

As the clouds slowly waft

over a brightly waxing moon,

I stand here

under the light of an unopened door.

My two shadows do battle,

but not I

do they rattle.

I find myself within a hallway,

one of my own design.

I find myself within a hallway,

where an architect decided to resign.

The door to the outside,

much like the door to further in,

takes me someplace

that I might like to go.

I think of that ancient, pockmarked surface of Luna,

her many hills and ridges

devoid of life and love

but perfect in their stillness

and her majesty.

Forever does she battle

in contest with the sun

and the stars.

Eternal guardian of the night

and the tides.

Her temperament predicts the rise and fall of civilizations,

so easily does she command the dark, dark waters of Earth, our Terra.

I offer this prayer to Luna,

that one most graceful body

of a goddess most revered.

As the tides wash over you,

so too does change.

Searching, Finding

I’d like to say I’m looking. It’d be nice to see the end of the line, the light in the end of the tunnel, but no, I find that I am simply existing and unsure of which direction to go if I even go at all. Any ideas? Please enjoy the poem, friends.

White Whale

A burning sea

and smoky sky.

Cleansed by fire

and ash and lye.

No boats,

no masters.

On the open ocean now,

only hope you’ll move faster.

It’s coming, you see.

That thing you sail away from.

It always seeks and always finds

those who feel but numb

in a world that often blurs the lines.

Not hunting,

but being hunted.

There is no hope

to fight back,

only ways to clean with soap.

The time and place is never, nowhere.