your voice is so soft and chuckles too much,
i hear this sleep around every corner and bend when you talk to me,
so when you ask me to write my photograph,
i know that you don't care if my hair is black or my eyes brown, or if i have an overbite, or that my glasses get smudged too easily on a cold and raining sunday afternoon -
you never saw me like that, anyway, and neither did i:
close my eyes on late nights and think about you,
with hair cropped short and blonde, feathery on my fingertips, smells like apples or peaches or maybe both
(like mine, though mine is long and keeps my back warm on winter mornings, wraps around my neck at night like a little cat)
and i'm neither tall nor short because in space, skin, bones, fat and muscle means nothing and only the way we feel against each other matters - both of us soft, slightly wrinkled from too much sunburn, salt stained summers and the thought that being young never dies.
you don't die, not the way your fingers hold a pen or correct my poetry, short, stumpy fingers clumsily smudging still-wet ink across a blank piece of paper, hesitant, hoping that you like what you read, hoping that you read not just my words but the way i write tenuously on hope, on love, on the way the city breathes a hundred million different colours every day.
and maybe you won't ever see me again through wide open eyes, but as soon as your eyelids close, i know that all the soul you couldn't ever see will settle on your brow, you'll blink and here i am, across an endless ocean waiting for you to breathe out.
for one of the most beautiful women i have ever met.
8 Jul 08
Rated 8.4 (8.6) by 12 users.
Active (12): 1, 5, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10
Inactive (19): 1, 1, 2, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10
(define the words in this poem)
(51 more poems by this author)
(18 users consider this poem a favorite)
Add A Comment:
Seriously good. Makes me feel all this funny little feelings inside.
with L11- not a fan of the "i am"..."i'll be" maybe? Or the ending "out".
"the way the city breathes a hundred million different colours every day." Love that bit, and the little cat.
The title maybe needs to change. Too casual, which in a way is perfect...too much of a speech thing though. I almost want a "dear" in there.
Deformed - you are spot on with the title. I've changed it to "dear sam,", which is far more fitting, anyway. As for l11, I don't want to change it to "here i'll be", it's too reminiscent of Tricia Yearwood =P
Thank you for your kind words.
Lots of sam poems on this site can someone explain why?
the voice don't do no chucklin', it's the speaker what chuckles, cause chuckles isn't no language and the voice sounds language out in wordifications and stuff-to-know-about-me. the chuckles is really saying something about the situation, and that's another level, so to speak, of dialog. reading a poem is to look at the author watching me, seeing how i see. the problem is that the words are glued down and can't be changed if the author sees i'm not getting it. the first way of writing has to be the only way it'll be read, and that means you have to start with needing to write a poem, not just needing to "we have to talk".
AMEN! Sam IS absolutely gorgeous and so is this poem!
sHe is stellar -- you've wrestled the word into shape and form a coherently bashful albeit lovely character of your unabashed Poetic iluMentations and realEYESations -- well writ with love in it --
joey I'm not sure what you're talking about.
Unk - Sam poems for a personal Sam thing, I'm not sure if it's meant to be disclosed publicly?
Thnaks j00, starr and Alch :)
Section 10. Beautiful. Also "...because in space, skin, bones, fat and muscle means nothing and only the way we feel against each other matters..." Your tone to this one is just comforting, and soft. Compassionate. Don't change a thing.
Thank you, nugunz. Glad you got it :)
who is sam? sammy davis jr?
anyone loved by pc raises concern.
from what i gather, and what the above shows, most of you are caught up in the process of representation as an attempt to purify the animal inside of you. this does not go away. it may be relegated but only to foster further flowers whose roots we cannot remove.
the final 3 words, though. i'd almost want to get rid of them. there just seems to be some kind of morbidity to them. like when your cat keeps dragging its ass everywhere and shitting on the carpet but you don't have the heart to just end it for them.
I would feel so honoured to be Sam.
Mercy, people. This is only good because it is starring one of the PC darlings; not because it's a good poem. Christ almighty. Differentiate.
"It's a new idea, this is going to be big"
"HAHAHAHAHA terribly unprofessional"
NO ONE'S EVER DONE THIS BEFORE.
My name is Sam too :D
diffinitely a fave!
:) So beautiful.
I fell in love with her via this poem, so yes...
This is fantastic! written with so much heart!
Good Lord! This poem is magnificent. A DEFINITE 10. The emotions I felt while reading it were indescribable. Fantastic, fantastic writing.
this poem hit me deep like an ocean of flowers. i can picture it in my head
loverly. simply loverly!!
Thanks for all your comments guys, pleasant surprise to see this old one still gets eyes :)
You wondered about this work then. Now, after reading your work dedicated to Sam, I'll share this one again. I think you'll understand.
Through PC, you and me
We are reality. All else
is fantasy to justify
the time we spend away
from one another. Elstwise,
distance would have no meaning,
and we would lie skin to skin
every night. And every day,
in every way, this world
and they, are the lies
we perpetuate to separate
you from me.
If they find out, they disappear.
Of all the poems I have ever read, none have lingered or haunted me as much as yours did; I feel your words in me, resounding.
I would ask again who you are, but after these years, how your words feel > identity.
Thank you for sharing; I have printed them so as not to lose them, again.
The words remind me of ka.
I loved ka, wendz, nearly as much as I love you and sam. And that's why the work will remain anonymous.
this isnt poetry. it was written way too fast.
the lack of proper punctuation and capitalizations don't add anything too it, it just disrupts the flow of it.
nothing too unique here, just kind of a random assemblage of images that dont compliment eachother, and an author who is giving themselves a lot of high ratings.
i'm a BITYCHYU FUCK I:M TALKING TO THE EVIL KING >>>>>>>>>> Luscifer (aka ... LISTEN)
TRY THIS NEW ALBUM HATE (HADES BLOODFETISH IS SEXY I JUST CAN:T SAY IT I +N PERSON SO I AM ABACK STACKING BLOOD SCUKER IT WOULDN't be long before itell that fractalcore puts me on a pedastal that i can't beat and larry lark is as a nice as they come and issabelle is as mean as they come but cute but oscorp pays the bill and eformed just tries to TELL M E THE TRUTH HATTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
loom we were ... young.
finding it hard to keep still on a mustang?
so nice to see your here, my friend.
love the ending, tied the whole piece together perfectly. Great piece. =]
Holy crap! This is amazing. This inspires me to write, but I know it won't ever compare to this.
i remember this
it is way better than the one i wrote
i wonder how sam is doing these days