self-study – Page 33 – Poems by Sam

Robinson Crusoe

Afternoon. Oftentimes I dream of the high seas. I am an adventurous spirit, an ambitious man. I sometimes forget how easy it is, how common it is, to be lost at sea. To be lost and never find your way again in that wide blue expanse. I grew up on stories of the Bermuda Triangle, Amelia Earhart, Captain Cook, etc. Adventurers and pioneers and even just regular old people losing their way and never being found again. What adventures they had. Having been lost myself, albeit in a more metaphorical sense, I have come to appreciate the ones who got lost even moreso. They take a path we don’t need to. Trailblazers one and all. Some day I think all those lost ones will be found again. No one is ever truly lost forever. Only waiting to be found.

Sacred Isle

Castaway

Shorn, torn apart and scorned

Tatters and rags

Beggars and dregs

Richest man on the island

Though the poorest so too

See how the stars aline

Blood omens line the sky

So allein, a sign!

Hoping to yourself it’s not a lie

Hereafter, maybe a beer after?

Hearing echoes in your laughter

Of your laughter

Bats and bugs hang from the rafter

Fair seas and fair winds

They’ve gone rusty, all your tins

Your hair’s getting long, friend

“Who’s speaking? Who’s that?”

“Oh.”

Just my head again

Little bug, little bug

How you run away…

We’ll See, I Suppose

Good afternoon, friends. I am very tired today. Very tired for a long time now. I don’t believe it’s quite coming to a head. This is just how it is now. I won’t ever give up, of course. I refuse. I will keep going. Keep doing my best. It doesn’t get easier, but it does get easier. My dreams will not be just dreams. Perception is reality. We can all take a lesson from that, I think. Finding myself never stops. Finding yourself never stops. That’s the fun part. Somewhat sad poem for you today. Maybe I’m easier to figure out than I think.

Self-Sufficient

You want me to be honest?

You want me to tell the truth?

I am tired.

I am spent.

I just need to go home and sleep.

Go home and be in my bed.

To stow and hide away my heart and mind.

To hold my broken heart in your hands.

How it must be to know such power.

Intoxicating, perhaps.

I only wish you would care for it

Cherish it, the way a lover would.

Sew me up

Put me back together

Pick up all my pieces but you’re missing the tape

I don’t hurt anymore

Just the slow thumping in my chest

My blood still flows just the same

Somehow it comes to pass that I breathe without lungs

Pump blood with no heart

See with no eyes

And touch with no hands

All things I give to you freely

That you take and take without recess

So that now I have nothing left

Except that I do

I am breathing

I am Seeing

And I am feeling

Another Little Love Story

Guten Morgen, Freunde! Every day is an opportunity for another little love story. Fall in love even more with the person you love, fall in love with the trees and the dirt, fall in love with air you breathe and the little tiny dogs you see walking in the street. Life is often hard, but I’ve said before: You don’t need to harden yourself to match it. Find peace in acceptance of yourself and all things. Find love in your heart where you thought it had left. Be softer and kinder to yourself and those around you. Never give up. The World won’t. Why should you?

It’s A Helluva Lot

Spending months away at sea

Leaving just the baby and she

Thinking to myself about the way they miss me

Hoping happy she will be

Coming home to see her eyes

Reflecting deep blue skies

And her love I need not prise

For with her I won’t capsize

Stepping from the boat and holding her

Hearing the machines choke and whir

And i can say with confidence she’s better than pictures

Sitting at the foot of the bed

Knowing that someday we’ll be wed

Thinking of the life we have ahead

I’ll one day leave this ship and be with her instead

I’ll give up being a sailor and be the one she counts on

I’ll wake up every morning to her smile with the dawn

Knowing when the time comes that i won’t again be gone

A Home For The Days (And Nights Too)

Good morning! Running off of three hours of sleep and a single cup of black coffee really makes you think. About everything. My mind is always moving a million miles a minute. I’ve spent a long time wondering. No doubt I’ll do it some more. There always seems to be more time. Life is so often so slow. Helps to appreciate the little things. Always keeping track of all the little things I love. It is a hard world. Be softer. Be kinder. Bring balance to a world with an edge so sharp it often cuts. One of these days I’ll look back and realize that all of this made sense. Only just with context. And now, a drumroll…

There and Back Again

Feeling not so good again

Queasy

It’s never so easy

I want to go home

But there is no home

Not for now

But again, i think

I’d like to open the door

To walk in

“Honey, I’m home,” I’d whisper

To see the couch and coffee table

I’d like to go to the kitchen

To cook for me and mine

See a smile I haven’t seen in so much time

To sit upon my castle walls and stare out at the sunset

I only call the window out of my office the crenellations

Because it makes her laugh

My chest to rest your tired head

I know how hard the days can tread

To walk amongst the bathroom tile

See the towels rank and file

We can both be sticklers sometimes…

How she chuckles at my choice of words.

Finally through the bedroom

A bed to rest my tired head

We’ll be happy

When all is done and said

What Time Is It?

2:30 at the time of writing. “What time is it?” I ask again. Do you know what time it is? Look at the clock and trace the ticking arms with your eyes. Find the hour, find the minute. To the second even? Too late. Out of time. You still don’t know what time it is. How could you ever?

Cracks in the Clock

Every second is excruciating

Every minute acutely agonizing

Hours pass as years

And Days in decades

I have been sitting here for 90 minutes

I can hardly believe

Everything changes in a Day

Everything changes in a minute

How’s it all so fast

When everything’s so slow?

Everything about me

juxtaposed

Incongruous

Broken and Fractured

Waiting to be raptured

Fighting with myself

At peace with myself

Loving myself and hating myself

A genius and a moron

A hero and a monster

A good man and a bad man

All at once

Driving me insane

The depths of my mind

Where to begin

Watching the dryer set to spin

Pins and needles swarm from the metronome

Tick and Tock

Stick and Shock

Kisses don’t…

It doesn’t matter