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Samuel Durant Poem
These chains of deceit that bind me to this hardwood seat.
I bend and break the bars that confine, but they remain, like the haughty, jagged grin of an eroded skull.
Such good times as these are even visited by dark slips of the gut from thoughts of tortures past.
It was a massive structure, swathed in a meagerly regal indigo, lined in placid silver.
In this place I did not cry of neglect. I was no dark horse, puffing promises of vengeance
for the cruelty and nonchalance of my lords.
They catered to me well, forever willing to stir into my cauldron their own lazily construed dogmas.
But O, so long as I gazed upon the faces of my peers, eyes starried with anticipation of knowledge
and fantastic visions of other world intrigue, I could not lead the expected life of indifference. Intrigue
of the kind that I confusedly examined, reaching deep into the dark, conceptual pit of the unknown, and unproven.
Exhausted, I came to my knees, deep in the cave, to rest, to wait for all the promised realities to reveal themselves.
I waited so very long for such things. Drew and blew irreplaceable breaths
awaiting the truth of falsehood to at last burst forth, at the final moment, to redeem itself.
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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Samuel Durant Poem
a few years ago
i was walking from my car
to my apartment.
around the corner, i heard a skateboard
and sure enough, skateboy mcf*ckenstein
comes plowing around the corner.
the kid hit a rock or something and
beefed all over the sidewalk.
i approached him, and stated:
"if you vote for george w. bush,
he will molest your children."
now, almost thirty years later,
i am crouched beneath this mildew
enshrined bungalow,
curdling my teaspoons of
tequila.
if only skateboy mcf*ckenstein
had listened.
i don't think he was even old enough to vote.
such is the cruelty of fate.
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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Samuel Durant Poem
This is the poem with no title.
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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Samuel Durant Poem
Hey, this poem is about something very specific. It's
gonna make a clever observation with a wry little
punchline right at the end, right before the Kool-Aid Man
breaks through the wall oh yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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Samuel Durant Poem
Tell me
What you see
When you
Look at me
is it really what you thought
it was?
And I've
had enough
of things like love
and bitterness.
Got no one to thank but the
clouds in the sky,
but why, why do they seem
so grateful?
Sign me up for the winter
cuz the summer's got me down
When I see all these hard bodies
it makes me frown
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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Samuel Durant Poem
Asian dude
wearing an
Air-Jordan™ shirt
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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Samuel Durant Poem
A quiet prelude
to a mystical piece:
It is apparent
that my spiritual side
must be released.
Perhaps it is
to my squeakin' wheel
the grease.
Upon my brain
I signed the lease.
It just ran out.
Why pout?
Why pick only one?
Museth I.
There are many in the sky.
Allah, Yahweh, Zoroaster
and Ja'Quan
For communion I shall
eat fried wontons.
Worship shall be led
by Daniel Johnston,
and the sermons
delivered by the
filthiest derelict
in Atlantic City.
Life sure can be ****ty,
so I pray to my gods
and hope for their pity.
Buddha came through for me.
But he wanted to borrow $3.50
for some baked ziti.
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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Samuel Durant Poem
You're a dirty skank whore
You're a dirty skank whore.
Skankin' around the neighborhood,
Everybody knows you're up to no good
You're a dirty skank whore
You're a smelly dishrag
Yeah, you're a smelly dishrag.
The boys know to go to you
When they want to cure their blues
Cuz you're a smelly dishrag.
You've got diseases
Yeah you've got diseases.
When you spread your legs at the clinic
The doctor said 'the f*ck's been in this?'
You've got diseases
Cuz you took a poz load.
Yeah you took a poz load.
The dude swore that he was clean.
Now you've got HIV,
Cuz you took a poz load.
You're broke with five kids.
Yeah, you're broke with five kids.
Two weeks till your welfare's done
You should've just became a nun.
Cuz you're broke with five kids.
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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Samuel Durant Poem
f*ck justin bieber
f*ck harold and kumar
f*ck huey lewis
f*ck star trek
f*ck everything that isn't classical music
f*ck art that doesn't make sense who the f*ck would pay
5 billion dollars for splotches
of
paint
f*ck mariah carey
f*ck reading books
get a kindle god dammit
it's 2012
and people still read books
and listen to the beatles
what the f*ck is wrong with you troglodytes
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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Samuel Durant Poem
A young man in overalls
remarked to me:
"How 'bout them Redskins?"
I couldn't think of anything
worthwhile to say, so
I refrained from speaking.
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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