Tag Archives: sam dotson

Erinnerung

Howdy, folks. Got a new one today about quiet reminders. Not much to say here, but I hope you like it. Without further ado…

Erinnerung

There flows a river,

meandering gently

through one soft and solemn place

where memories and remembrances do meet

in quiet, somber embrace.

~

And in its path

do they twirl and dance,

astonishingly simple

in their great complexity.

~

Simple loves and simple loss

that floats and swirls about the waterline

with little foam

and clear view of gentle stones

that lay about

as old and gentle bones.

~

The leaves of Autumn do fall,

absent chaos of a sea-like squall

as quiet breezes drift along,

carrying notes of one simple, quiet song.

Future Proof

Blessed be the double post, folks. I’ve got a second one hot off the press that almost feels like it gave me whiplash. I hope you like it. Without further ado…

Future Proof

Here and now,

I am cast away.

Torn asunder

in times of great blunder.

~

Astride a stormy sea I sail,

against a howling, hungry gale

as whispers follow close behind,

and my face will tend to a sickly pale.

~

Visions of a vaunted hall,

an idea that I could have it all,

and then it was,

there began the fall.

~

In that dark and stormy night,

reflected in the quiet maelstrom,

are black and blue and all things bruised,

and all the things I sought to lose.

~

Blessed then by darker gods,

and troubled by those crying thoughts,

I am reminded of the loss.

Bering Sea Gold

Hey folks, been a minute. Got a poem I’ve kept under wraps to post when I don’t feel like writing. Just happens to be one of those times, plus it’s exceedingly applicable. I sincerely hope you enjoy. Without further ado…

Bering Sea Gold

Bering Sea Gold,

He barely sees straight.

A man can never know his fate.

~

Barely alive,

and bearing the dive,

the man struggles, but never folds.

~

Buried then

in Bared teeth,

this tests the man’s belief.

~

Sail the strait,

but never the narrow,

find the key,

take an arrow.

~

One day he’ll haunt an aged barrow.

Drumbeats in the Deep

Howdy, howdy. Got another hot off the cheffin’ table. This one’s about a feeling I got while my girlfriend and I were reading Catch-22. I hope everybody enjoys. Without further ado…

Drumbeats in the Deep

Cerulean waves beat against the darkness

like drumbeats in the deep;

thump, thump, thump, thump

and emeralds shatter against the creep.

~

That dreaded demon’s ghost

lies slumbering below,

cascading out across the coast

and laying simple places low.

~

Crimson eyes

that pierce the veil,

like crimson lights

against the pale.

~

Ancient columns sound the call,

a coronach that trills,

and fills,

the silence of it all.

~

Beginning,

middle,

end,

is the man’s soul to bend?

Dust and Water Vapor

Evening, folks. It’s about damn time I put out another poem. Here’s one I wrote on a recent trip when I could only just see the moon. I hope you like it. Without further ado…

Dust and Water Vapor

In the light of one sullen moon,

did sanguine, red wine cross his lips,

dripping and dripping into the abyss.

What sordid passion is this?

~

There sat an ignoble moon,

possessed of dark clouds 

concealing its sight,

but for one sultry glimpse

by one half-mad loon.

~

So traveled as he was,

in this place he had been,

did fear still alight

in the hearts of some men.

~

Filtered then

by so much dust and so much vapor

was the light of the moon

doomed once again to taper.