|
Details |
Sam Allen Poem
As the bitter, piercing cold flees north, as the opaquely white snow makes an elaborate stratagem, a tortuous plan to revitalize next year, the viridescent grass begins to flourish and prosper, bringing an end to the biting winter. The juniper green leaves on trees begin to reinstall on the once dismal branches and the hibernating ophidians start to abandon their balmy, sheltered dens, and immerse themselves in the Sun's ultraviolet radiation and rejuvenating heat. The chirpy, sprightly birds perch themselves on the limbs of trees and ebulliently carol together and rejoice, for wintertime has vacated and the Sun has emerged from the billows of clouds. The cunning squirrels depart from their shelter, burdened with acorns. They scamper down the bark of trees and gleefully frolic and play in the grassy taigas of Siberia. The ravishing daisies begin to blossom, flaunting with their milky white petals and canary yellow pollen. As these plants and animals benefit from their transfiguring environment, gaiety and jollity radiates, for the somber subdued season has dematerialized and withdrawn from this ever-changing landscape.
Copyright © Sam Allen | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Sam Allen Poem
Daylight-Kissed skin and tempered glassy waves, Sun and Moon quarreling as twins, school kids bouncing out of their homework-ridden graves. Viridescent balmy plants, stirring through Natures breath, rain dances making God molt tears to near death. Capitulators to Poseidon's surf riding eccentric lazuline coated currents, droning mosquitoes acting as constant deterrents. Platitudinous yet catchy Carnival tunes whisking through the cloudless sky, Cotton candy melting in your mouth, fizzing like an agitated Sprite. Shimmering and dazzling fireflies twirling in the star-spangled night, cerulean and burgundy hues rippling across the twilight. Summer has arrived, parading with its vibrant eyes and bright simmering grin, parading through the streets, striding effortlessly, making your head perspire, blanketing sweat on your chin.
Copyright © Sam Allen | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Sam Allen Poem
Rushing away from the Devils hair hoisting heave
Rushing to Gods downy laced embrace, searching as astray and bereaved.
Rushing away from your most tenebrous night-frights.
Rushing to your chain mail-cloaked knight.
Rushing away from the skies troubling tears.
Rushing to the sun-singed grassy spears.
Rushing away from the contemporary world atrocities.
Rushing to the falsely glazed generosities.
Rushing away no longer
Only rushing to authorities, tongue untied, and hands unclasped from behind my allegorically lashed back.
Rushing away, wiped from my options, forced to breathlessly quarrel and yack.
Copyright © Sam Allen | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Sam Allen Poem
There she is, makeup layered on, like the sunblock you wear each and every day. Dress resolutely winking your way, pulling you closer, for she's the flower and your the bee, attracted to her imbuing dimple, her entrancing beauty. You dazedly stumble her way, sweaty palms, eyes flaring around, for she's a bundle of fireworks, never to have frowned, for boys are always doltishly flirting with her, making her giggle, for they are drunk from her love, drunk from her liquor.
But today she stands alone, waiting, waiting for you. Not knowing what to do, you fumble around with your thumbs and timidly stutter your words. Fed up with your Epic, your restless heartbeat for her, she grins at you, teeth blindingly flashing, done with being subdued. A hummingbird flutters out of her lips, for her love is no longer taken, nevermore caged by her questioning gaze. She takes your hand, leans against your shoulder and purrs out your name. Haven guessed his password, his key to his heart, you dance, dance until dark. Gyrating around you, she effortlessly twirls and spins, like cotton candy, she is revolved by your arms, sweetened by the twinkle in your eyes and the caring in your smile. As the Sun rises to say hello, you unclasp your hands and separate, unstick from your eloquent hug. Even though you walk away from this night, step away from her voodoo, your love for each other will never walk away from you.
Copyright © Sam Allen | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Sam Allen Poem
Whirling by, munching away at the worn-garnet shingles, chopping trees with its transparent rope and hair-raising dynamism, and flushing your garish memories and spotless portraits down the toilet, sucking them away, fracturing and splintering your heart and soul, for they mean the world to you, they turn the lights on in your life.
Whirling by, facility and adroitness allow you to tiptoe across the stage, do fluent splits, and run the show, for you are conducting a harlequin infused performance and putting on a clinic, for your soul burns brighter, your eyes twinkle extra-scintillatingly, and your hair glows clearer than a luminescent firefly. Your twirling and twisting viciously, like a ballerina, you convey waves of happiness with your blinding smile.
Whirling by, your feelings have gone down the gutter, sank into the sticky, grungy mud, into a funereally gloomy cave infested by wolffish spiders. You are traipsing across an ice-bound lake, skating on an attenuated layer of frozen liquid, dereliction gripping you like the frost bluing your lips, for you are carelessly cracking the black ice, for you've been neglected by your closest peers and shunned by your insensitive parents, and you are just waiting to burst and fracture, for your a ticking time bomb, waiting to burst and explode, spray shrapnel around, slicing and dicing others that care deeply for you, for ending your life doesn't just close the blinds, barricade the doors, and stain the floors with blood for you, everyone who prays for your happiness also cries for your death, for a tsunami doesn't just affect the coastal city, it also affect millions of others that check the news and see the devastation that has been wrung.
Copyright © Sam Allen | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Sam Allen Poem
Frosty breath chilling
Masses of scratched barren trees
Blankets of icy snow
Copyright © Sam Allen | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Sam Allen Poem
Growing, manifesting, enlarging as the minutes pass. Teeth mashing together, grinding back and forth, licking its lips voraciously, eyes keening in for a meal, done letting time circle around, done chasing it down like a dog chases its tail.
It's ready.
Done playing around, done waiting for you to make your move, play your pawn, finish your turn. It's a monster, it's a goon, grumbling and roaring like a diversely maned lion, looting your short-term memories, leaving behind a cloudiness, leaving you dazed and clueless, for it drains you of your energy, of your buoyant and sunny mood.
It's ready.
Mouth open, hair tingling, feet dancing, jiving in a blithesome-hearted manner, for it sees the path to take, the move to make, the way to end this useless skirmish, this wasteful battle. It grabs away, acquisitively purloining your appetite, while growing minuscule as you plunge into your food and munch away, at an indefatigable pace.
Now It's done.
But it will come back, emerge from the shadows and grow like a weed, fast and furiously regaining its hold, its control over you, for like a charm, it will trance you, cause your eyes to gaze away, stunned, and arms lay out, like a zombie.
And it will rise.
Rise like an eagle, soaring above your hopes and desires, making itself first on your to-do list. Gliding you away, far from your soul, from your percipient choices and inquisitive moves. And it will keep itself tucked away, like a python in the open ground, but it still constrains you, dampers your evocatively brushed eyes, your unfeigned beam, and your superficially inextinguishable body language.
Copyright © Sam Allen | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Sam Allen Poem
Wearing a sable-tinted hood, dressed in dark, despondent hues, swanking about with a spine-tingling gaze and an eerily menacing cape, littered with boldly bonded skulls. Stalking you outside your window, peeking through during the pitch dark. Attempting to rob you of your soul, trying to mug you and drag you away, take your essence, and feed off of it, like it was a bag of candy. While a dragon puffs out clouds of smoke and breathes tentacles of bright roasting flames, Death huffs out wisps of frigid air and rifts of frosty shreds, for it has a black heart and a besmirched brain. It collects the skulls of its victims, displays them as trophies, and jars them away, for they are specimens, studied and researched for the conjuring of preternatural and ghostly potions and elixirs. It hovers above the ground, for it traded its legs with the devil, exchanged them for knowledge, for power. It desires to squash life, to squeeze out its quintessence. It's eyes are empty circles, desolate holes, for it used them to make an concoction that will grant it immortality. It is ravishing and avaricious, for it wants to tip the scales, push over the boulder, draw its own line, granting it more space, allowing it to suffocate everything and everyone's spirit.
Copyright © Sam Allen | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Sam Allen Poem
Waltzing around carelessly, trampling through the golden daisies, oblivious to the coiled up snakes, violently hissing.Blindly shadowing a group of prepossessing wolves, with their lustrous coats gleaming a snowy white. Sashaying along a busy highway, head down, eyes closed.
You don't know where your traveling, you don't know what your achieving, you are stricken with grief, prostrated on the ground. Now, you mindlessly stumble around, no longer transfixed by trepidation. Mindlessly staggering away, forever scarred, forever branded. You are perpetually senseless, stuck in a cycle of forlornness, where you cannot abscond, trapped in a feeling of depression.
Copyright © Sam Allen | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Sam Allen Poem
Howling jolts me awake
Brings me to my feet
Opening my ears
Sprinting down the gravelly street.
I can feel it's grief and hear it's trembling whimpering. But I can't see it's slanting grin
I can't stroke its slathered pearly coat
Or coax its troubling fears, wrench them off its snowy, pilose skin.
Zigzagging around the sprucely sheathed trees,
Panting, secreting oppressively.
Wildly glaring around like a banshee.
Falling to your knees, punching the sky pathetically.
You are late and tardy
Gazing upon its lifeless body
You can't see it's slanting grin
Only fondle it's gnawed bones
And painfully watch it's spirit and soul disembody.
Copyright © Sam Allen | Year Posted 2017
|
|