Poem: Wellspring

Energy within,

I call you forth

bursting within and without

bubbling up beneath old stones and

moving mountains for me

as you did once

long ago.

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Poem: The Torrid Darkness

Warmth is what you notice first

It drips from you like shadow

It sinks into you like sunlight

It swirls in your heart and beats in your veins

Fire and lightning at once

Electricity

 

The blackness surrounds you

It pulls you in

Deliciously dark

Like the end of the world

The end of your world

Pleasure spiraling

Coalescing

Manifesting in a gasp

In a whisper

A giggle

A laugh

 

You can feel it inside of you

Building to flame

Wrapping you in flame

Dark flame

You sit up on his chest

You squeeze him with your thighs

You sigh, smiling in the darkness

But you know he can’t see it

 

You can hear in his voice

He has his eyes closed

Flame washes him away, something else washes into you

Something new

Something to purge the pain and the doubt

Something you’ve never felt before

Is it love in the dark?

The soft, charged dark

Black like night, just like the rest

Maybe love floods through your body as you move

With him

On him

In him

 

Your eyes, half-lidded, open

Your lips, half-parted, close

He’s gone.

You are alone in the torrid darkness

Like now

Like always.

 

 

©2012 Sam Oliver (Eris)

I’m okay. Really I am.

<3s,

Eris

PS:

Did you know that torrid has a buncha different meanings? I didn’t. I always thought it meant ‘proof that this author is trying to sound smart without knowing what a word actually means’. Cheers!

Poem: A Sin in the Dark

A Sin in the Dark

An experimental poem by Sam Oliver [Eris]

She stands there like stone

 

Still as the moon

And twice as cold

 

Should I approach her

I know what she’ll say

Better to wait here

And hope that she stays

 

Still I might see her

Eyes glance this way

I may’ve imagined it

But who is to say?

She could be staring me

Down from behind

But how can I tell

She pays me a mind?

Her heart be true

 

This much you know

It’s not what she’ll show

 

But what lurks inside

The cold of her heart

Like winter’s first frost

It tears you apart

 

A warm night will melt her

Or force her away

If her soul is too soft

Perhaps she won’t stay

You cannot imagine

She’ll want to conform

Scented with jasmine

Perhaps now she’ll warm

I don’t like his look

 

I don’t like his eyes

Or the way that he lies

 

Through teeth far too white

I watch in his smile

The things I find bite

Are the cunning and guile

 

Can he not see

He’s no interest to me!

I want to be free of him badly

If he won’t away

I swear that this day

I’ll stand here and leave him

Quite gladly

Alone.

 

 

©2012 Sam Oliver [Eris]

——

Oh, hi everyone. Yes, I’m still alive. New poem? NEW POEM! ❤

Experimental 1-2-4-8-1-2-4-8-1-2-4-8 line poem. ❤ Still probably classified as freeverse. I don’t know what I’d call it otherwise!

It’s the Leap Year! Leap Year Day! Happy birthday all of you born today. Comes around only once every four years, so if you were born in 2000 you are now officially three years old! Congratulations!

…No. That’s not how it works. :c

Birthday is not the same as age and anyone who tells you otherwise is a NUT.

<3’s,

-Eris

Poem: Sibling – Soulmate

Sibling – Soulmate

A dual-form freeverse poem by Sam Oliver [Eris]

 

Love sings down

Like a crown

On the field

Rustling through every

Leaf

 

The trees all around

Like grass in the town

Surrounded by buildings

But not really

Here

 

Together in stars

In hearts and the bars

Of light that shine out

From the sky

 

Together in part

By silver and soul

Together and never

Do we die

 

My world is ablaze

Like sunset

Like glaze, the light that reflects

In a silvered soft shine

 

Untouched here by

Slivers of fear

Or sought out by hate

Ridden hard to the gate

That now they will find

Quite closed

 

We don’t need their pain

Or their lust

Or the plainness

The petty contempt that they serve

We just have eachother

Like sisters, like brothers

Like siblings together

 

We cling-

We hope-

We hold-

and we love,

but we

are one

and the same.

 

 

©2012 Sam Oliver [Eris]

—————-

I love poetry.

-Eris

Poem: On My Own

On My Own

A freely structured poem story by Sam Oliver [Eris]

 

Like the lines all dancing down

Through the black

Through the rain

 

Like the fires raining stark

On the grasses

On the plains

 

Like the lightning strikes the earth

All the soldiers

All the men

 

From these walls they do defend

Like the guardians

Of their hearts.

 

Yet while they fight I sit and wait

As the war now nears my gate.

 

I’m the one who stands

On he/r own

On he/r own.

I’m the one who stands

On he/r own.

 

Like a rhythm in the heart

Forever after

Forever now

 

Like a drumbeat in the dark

Somehow silent

Somehow mine

 

Like the world with its light

Growing flowers

Growing trees

 

Like the sky, a dancing night

High above

High below

 

Descend now angels, hear them sing

Of the souls

Of the songs

 

Below them shouts of hope do ring

From the soldiers

From the darkness

 

Hope that’s thwarted by heaven’s hand

The angels flight now does demand

A price for splendor we observe

Warriors’ lives spent from our reserves

Silence falls like hammer silver

While I wait inside my room

Blessed winter comes too swiftly

For the soldiers and their doom.

 

The men who fought for me now die

In the hundreds, in the thousands

Watch them flee while I deny

This isn’t real

This isn’t mine

 

In the quiet I am broken

But I stand-

On my own

And I stand

On my own.

 

Stone-shod window with its claws

Like a demon without laws

See the fires flung through fear

Hear the astral spirits cheer

For the victory of my foe

For the coming dark and row

They’ve had with me and mine so long

I know that even if I’m strong

I will die

Where I stand

On my own- now

Alone.

 

 

©2012 Sam Oliver [Eris]

—–

 

 

 

Just a poem that I wrote. Good to cut these darker feelings off, yes? Probably. I’m sure it’s absolutely chock full of meaning. It certainly meant a lot to me as I wrote it, even if the end result feels a little thick. Perhaps I could’ve confined myself to some form or rule or something, but sometimes I feel like I’d rather just tell a story. Grim as it is.  walp. enjoy as always. Comments, critiques, etc? Drop me one as a reply. I’m always up for hearing thoughts and I usually try to get back to them.

Er. Not to be a downer or anything. Poetry is, after all, a raw expression of feeling and emotion. Maybe I ought to do something about how totes depressing my poetry can end up being :3?

Then again, maybe not.

 

-Eris

Poem: The Spade For Me

The Spade For Me

A poem by Sam Oliver [Eris]

 

 

I am not afraid

Of the man and his heart

Where he stands

Far apart

From me

His folded set face

The fingers in place

At his sides

Threatening

Me

 

When he comes close

I drift back

Shadows at my heart

Certain- shaken up- at

Me.

 

I am not afraid

Of the way his hands move

Of how his eyes dart

Over body, over heart

Over me.

 

His mouth as it moves

Says how ‘it behooves’

Who does he think

That he is to

Me?

 

My fragile, frail life

Stretched thin before that knife

Which shines in his hands

And shines in

Me

 

I am not afraid

Of the worn ruddy red

A hymn for the dead

Through metal-

Through me.

 

Life slips through

Fingers slick, askew

Like glasses that slide

From my nose

From me.

 

They shatter on the floor

Their noise I abhor

But distant now how

Can I see

Past me?

 

I am not afraid

Of this man standing now

Above and within

My worn, torn heart

In me.

 

He cuts without his knife

With words thickened by strife

His fingers wrapped tight

Round my throat

Round me.

 

He’ll choke out my life

Like the other cut with knife

While my heart beats it’s last

I’ll see

Just me.

 

But I am not afraid

No, not of this man

Who thinks he has me

Controls me

Is me

 

I break free of his grip

Flutter heart, faint quip

Brought to mind by years of abuse

“Your end is nigh,” Slips from lips

Dry as bone

But me

Part of me.

 

A hand reaches out

Mine or his, spell is shout-

-ed like thunder raging forth

From me

It was me.

 

The years I was his slave

I will take to the grave

Like dreams that haunt

Forevermore

In me

 

Now I am not afraid

Of this man

In his grade

Of soil’d earth’s grip

Met anew

 

For I am she- who cut him down

For what he did to me

With spells and light and song I came;

His crime is now repaid

Tenfold, now with spade

It is me

Who sets him

To rest.

 

No I am not afraid

Of this man

In his grave

I am not afraid anymore

I told myself my fears

Washed clean by my tears

I can’t take back

What he stole and he sold

 

But I am not afraid

Of his heart that now beats no more

and I am not afraid

of the cold

and the filth

that settles on my skin like mold

I’ll shrug it off now

Free of pain, freed from how

Dirty one man

Made me.

 

Because in my heart

While lonely from the start

In forests that I once knew

My hands thick with soil

My eyes set unspoiled

I know that I’ll start

Anew

 

I know now I’ll find

Something new

 

i know that i need

someone new…