I feel it in my head it’s not centered it inches to the left maybe that’s why I feel so… Today I will try to center it. ~ Sammicakes
Category: poems
purpose | poem
not infinite, yet so vast the time upon us is uncountable and magnificent not entirely free to act on our own accord, but sufficient enough to progress never enough time, ability, or will to craft the desired vision of our person but in the constraints one can find purpose as in the murkiest of waters…
Plight of Obsession | Poem
the phoniest of flattery the most lascivious of lies the cacophony of coquettish ramblings: all are the plights of an unreciprocated obsession, not born out of love, but of rabidly ill intent. ~ Sammicakes
Cottagecore | Poem
Pheasants and finches sun-dappled meadows and delicate wishes fulfilled by the dream of self-isolation. Not yet nostalgic not yet the present but instead a dream idyllic that a more kind world would let come to fruition. ~ Sammicakes
Sonderlust | Poem
Visions of sonder that transpire down yonder traveling around the block again. Tip the man with his scuffed, cuffed pants, and wait until the moment is your friend. Sidewalks are busy, the yellow dresses and loose shirts dancing, while the wind plays a mellifluous tune. Night soon falls, all lilac and dark and still. And…
lavender and blackberry sleep | poem
slip into consciousness at the touch of cotton soft skin and contrasting fingertips. eye the waving sultry curls of blond against brown locks, after closing the satin blinds, drawing in closer the four walls, existence beyond glistening and diminishing into small nothingness. the nothingness slips away, slips away, slips away… understand the importance of this…
train at six | poem
tie your laces feel the beads of sweat stuck to your skin look at the slowly sinking afternoon sun the harsh feel of crushed rock beneath your exposed knee and then hear the sound– that sound you had only ever heard in the stillness of deep night hear the train tremble on its track some…
nails in the brain | SoCs poem
Good morning, everyone! This stream of consciousness poem is written for Linda G. Hill’s SOC Saturdays with the prompt as “nails.” I hope you all enjoy! ~ dull metal stabs the soft tissue of my fleshy, futile organ, puncturing it over and over, until all the life, all the intelligence, all that power I thought…
Imperative Incessance | Poem
this existence is stone a force that gravity would not dare kiss. fingers pulsate and go numb under the touch, the futile embrace of silver, enwrapped about a withered wrist. tune out the empty drum of strangled voices to only feel the same few words gliding— slipping, burning into my brain. ones that speak of…
Fangirl | Poem
This poem is for Linda G. Hill’s SoC Saturdays. The prompt for today is fan. Hope you enjoy! ~ Silly little fangirl Putting all your faith in one person All that faith in individuals who don’t even know you exist Silly little fangirl Putting all you eggs in one basket Just waiting for the moment…
Sammicakes 