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Best Poems Written by Sam Beloved

Below are the all-time best Sam Beloved poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Why Is It

Why is it that pressure feels so heavy?
When pressure isn't solid.
Why is it that tears of anger hurt more?
When anger isn't sorrow.
Why is it that life is a challenge?
Life should be a gift.
Why is it that car was there?
In that right place. At the wrong time.
Why must I live my days in memory?
Ten years still don't block that moment.
Why can't I be stronger?
Make you proud of me. I know you're watching.
Why is it that you didn't look the same?
In that bed. In the hospital.
Why did I hug that woman?
The one who hit you. She brought a plant.
Why did I say 'She'll be okay.'?
I hoped. Knew it wasn't somehow.
Why did it have to happen right after our phone call?
Two more seconds you'd still be here.
Why are we left with all these questions?
Spoken out into empty air.
Why am I still here?
There must be something I'm meant to do.
Why?

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Seasons of Life and Death

Under the care of sun and rain
My leaves have unfurled
My buds have burst forth
My own will has been done
This was my beginning
Through the seasons
Spring brought me to life
Summer grew me to new heights
The fall must come sometime
The frost will encase my barbs
And I will return to meditation
Waiting patiently for my rebirth
For your light to peek through clouds
Your moon to hold me within night
When spring returns...
I will dance in the wind
A never ending flower

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Blood of Birth

The secret she holds imperatively,
Locked inside cracked and bleeding lips.
Around her neck lies the skeleton key,
Awaiting the woman's seeking fingertips.
A Pandora 's box filled with sin,
Rests within her still beating heart.
Only a sentence is contained within,
'The world as we know to be torn apart.'
Animal rises by the bell's hollowed toll,
Dusk of desire to engulf and originate.
Restlessness becomes lack of control,
Energy merges and to the night she consecrates.
A cry, a sorrow; all of her distanced soul,
She builds her walls with stone and earth.
When broken, anger unable to be consoled,
Tormented by the blood of her birth.

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Shade

You speak as if you've read all the pages.
All knowing; bestow yourself this grace.
Beneath that serenity lies an abandoned cage.
Don't try to hide what's scrawled across your face.
I've forsworn myself, now I'll tell the truth.
The only reason for love in this world is you.

Do you want to see my eyes shaded from the sun?
Take this love and concern from deep inside me.
Tear down these walls, show this damaged heart is done.
Prove it's not "you and I" and no longer "we."

A tomb is set in earth, shuddering beneath you.
A souvenir of your self-inflicted ascension.
Housing the victims you so lovingly slew,
Demons overtaken; yearning for redemption.

Please don't tell me it's wrong to keep holding on.
Don't say those feelings were never worth the fight.
Even when the pain is numbed and gone,
I'll still need and bleed to feel your sunlight.

Details | Sam Beloved Poem

Forever Masquerade

She comes to me impalpable.
A courtesan of crimson red dreams.
Her words fall from her lips in ethereal melodies.
Pulling my twine to seal the seams.
The nature of her existence,
Whispering along the hue of my suspended form.
Her voice becomes substantial to my eyes.
She recreates images of a thunderstorm.
Lightning cracked as she portrayed,
A landscape engulfed by dark clouds with no rain.
Beneath the canopy people danced a masquerade.
The music played on as they stepped their sin.
Entering among them, a mask upon my face,
An aching search ebbing within.
There through the crowd soft brown eyes met my gaze.
She swam through the dancing sea taking my hand.
We began to merge our steps; souls ablaze.
There adrift the violin of the forgotten land.
The reason for our creation became known.
As we held each other in such a caring way.
Something between us had secretly grown.
We would remain dancing together. Forever and a day.

Details | Sam Beloved Poem

Night Melds With Day

Nothing seems to make sense here,
If there is such a thing as 'sense' at all.
No way to tell the time of year,
Morning doves hoot and owls call.
The day appears to meld into the night,
Shadows lurk with no one to follow.
No way to perceive by the amount of light,
Is it today or is it tomorrow?
The sun is setting with the moon adjacent.
The tide is coming and has already been.
Sitting beneath a maple, I am complacent.
Waiting for the rain to rise again.
The air feels cold and warms my core.
No way to tell where time ends or begins.
Animals wake only to sleep once more.
Falling stars rest in clouds made of wind.
There I sit patiently trying to find my way,
Flowers walk and leaves roam along.
In this place where the night melds with day.
In this place where the clocks are all wrong.

Details | Sam Beloved Poem

Speaking To Your Statue

Emotions soaring into the skies
As the footsteps echo off the balconies
The crow's accompany my soul's flight
I imagine them to be your eyes
Carefully watching so you may be there
If I should slip and fall into the nothing
Their cries are your words of praise
And so I smile at my distant reverie
Standing next to a stone angel
Surely you are prettier than she
Her eyes are hollowed; yours full of life
You reflect the sun's light with your smile
In my dreams you chase the fear away
How is it that you do so much without knowing? 
These things I'd never say to you
For fear your eyes would never rest on me again
And so through these words I express
This love that goes beyond anything
The natural world may procure
In my mind you are my guardian
A statue ever resting in my heart.

Details | Sam Beloved Poem

Sestina In the World of Worm

Contemporary and vast in imagination is the girl lost in her own world.
Concealed between the paragraphs and ink typed pages of the book.
Remain cross-legged, as if in meditation, toes tickled by grass.
Here the battle of yin and yang, good and evil, is not waged but in balance.
Falling from the tree to rest in her lap is the red apple.
Just like the plot of a book; within and eating it's way to the outside is the worm.

Weaving in and out of the core, consuming the plot, is the worm.
Pulling the reader through the red shiny skin into its world.
Hours could fly by hidden and protected by the apple.
The letters purge into a blur and no longer seen is the book.
Hero, villain, and romance achieve their balance.
Feet sprout roots into the grass.

Becoming immobile with the soft cushion; short bladed grass.
Breaking through one skin and into another goes the worm.
Coursing through the bloodstream, distorting balance.
Eyelids fall as if to be curtains closing out the remaining world.
The key to the gates lay open; the book.
Perched on left knee baring one hole; the apple.

Slipping through the tendrils of a dream riding aboard an apple.
Wings flapping on either side, improvised as grass.
The landing pad looms in front; an open book.
Waving a light for a signal and a hand for hello the worm.
Created solely by the subconscious is this world.

Hitting the pages stumbling from the stem with lost balance.
Skin melting red spilling into the pages; colorless becomes the apple.
Brandishing a pencil, he begins to build a new world.
Kneeling in the grass,
Coloring in the apple purple is the worm.
Dancing in circles around and upon the open book.

When finished, he nods slowly and closes the book.
The scales return to their balance.
Burrowing deep into the apple goes the worm.
Once purple and now red again is the apple.
The roots from feet recede from the grass.
Opening eyes back into the already created world.

Reaching complacency within the world of a book.
The grass, a support for balance.
Leaving the door ajar of the purple apple, waving a sad goodbye to the worm.

Details | Sam Beloved Poem

Everlasting Candle

"Hello?"
"Hey, I've missed you. Can I see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah, when I get off the bus!"
"Okay I have a present for you. See you then!"
Anticipation. A meeting long sought after.
Phone's distant ring.
"We're going for a ride. Put your shoes on."
A father and daughter head into the night.
Empty company. Words go unspoken.
"She's in the hospital. She was hit by a car."
Confusion. Sorrow. Anger. Rage.
"Don't let her mother see you cry."
Strength found somewhere. Arrival.
Room coated in silent sorrow.
"They said there's hope. She had a brain wave."
Hope. Wonder at what that thought was.
A warm summer day running in the woods.
Sorrow shattered by oncoming traffic.
"I'm so sorry."
Enraged eyes meet the driver. 
The woman cries, ashamed.
"Its okay. She'll be okay."
A misplaced hug. A lesson in judgement.
"Sam. Do you want to see her?"
Not like this. 
A long walk. Endless abyss. Tearing thoughts.
"Don't be afraid."
There through the door with handle brass.
My beautiful friend's body turned to glass.
"I won't say goodbye."
Refusing to cry. Just as father said.
"We have to go home. We'll come back tomorrow I promise."
Journey back filled with empty company.
Hollow. Out of place. A need to be alone.
Give me space!
Somehow sleep's darkness finds.
My space invaded. No! Shut up! Go away! 
"Sam, I'm sorry. She didn't make it."
Tears. Each one a memory.
Meeting in fourth grade. Sharing the same name.
Sticking up for one another. Playing a simple game.
Long afternoons in the sun. Never once had a fight.
She found out I was afraid of the dark. So she'd be my light.
"She was amazing. So young. My condolences."
A funeral filled with sadness so thick.
I gazed upon her body. Peaceful. 
"She made this for you."
A bracelet. Her present.
The facade shatters.
It's too much to handle. 
How can one's soul fire ever dance...
Without it's everlasting candle.

Details | Sam Beloved Poem

Love On a Black Horse

She's a curse and a blessing.
A giving of wings and a damnation.
The sins of her soul are calling,
Amidst a beautiful song of loving version.
Her demons they dance in unison,
Her angels blow their horns in rhythmic cords.
She'll suck your poison and seal your burden,
Lifting your heart onto the saddle of a black horse.
She'll ride you into the sunset lulling you to sleep,
Whispering promises of a life laden with dreams.
A land where, within soil, innocent blood runs deep.
Trees are withered and barren glowing in moonbeams.
Her mask will fall away and she'll begin to screech.
Her hair will fall in cobras, hissing and baring their teeth.
Your fingers will ache to grab the reigns still out of reach.
The earth will shudder, overflow, and crack beneath.
Millions of sinning souls will fill the chrispened air.
Your mind will want to believe this is only fiction.
As you sink into blood soaked earth, you despair.
Love is not always lifting. It's a decaying addiction.