Ode to Spam

Authors note: This is an old poem–I actually have not herd anyone use the word spam for some time now.

I sing to thee, oh gods of distraction. You who have aggravated me so often before; I thought I was rid of you long ago. But as it has been proven time and time again, you will always be there to distract people from the main point. You are like the phoenix born again bringing a burning flame of flaming with you. Oh I see now that you must be that you must have a place in our world. But how people are so obsessed with you; why are you so why must you distract and why—oh crap this is spam isn’t it.    

Sol of my Soul

Sol of my soul, light of the flame within me, you have the power to render a hundred forests to ashes.

Sol of my Soul, you are the ground, solid and ever steady beneath my feet, but if you anger, cities will fall like the futile works they are.

Sol of my Soul, you are the ever-flowing water of my pure hart, and from if you shall see, all shall be drowned in my sadness.

Sol of my Soul, you are frigid from the many heart brakes I have endured, and you breathe this air onto my foe so that they too may feel the cold sting of my hurt.

Sol of my Soul, you are the darkness that makes man and beast, though beast man may be, tremble and cower on their knees, do not underestimate me.

Sol of my Soul, you are the light within me the pure essence that I was born with and will die with though I may hurt people I will never be truly dark, and you represent a gift still sleeping within me.

Sol of my Soul, you are the wind within me, the bringer of flight, that my soul be not tied down, you are the everlasting wind that can be my guide and my will in life. Yes you are the power of wind within me the power of my sol my true light not merely light, but the power of my emotions that will guide me in the future.

But that is only my light. What is yours and will you let your emotions guide you?

I; Believe

I, in truth, never thought it reasonable to believe; 
In strange things or odd tails of yore. 
Though I might have hoped that they were as they said; 
Real and not made up. 

But the fake and the freakish lives in us all. 
And beyond the veil of our lives. 
In the world of imagination. 
And in the world of spirits where such things writhe. 

The world is always more then it seems. 
But less than the fantastic would have you believe. 
So look beyond what your comfort perceives; 
And find what it is you really believe.  

Lost

To find a thing, I cannot see.
To learn the way, I should be.
A darkness now, that I must seek.
Looking for a light to keep. 
I’ve found myself, lost again,
In the gray, where roads bend.
A shimmering star, far away
is my only guide. So I must go with no delay.
A simple rise, a simple fall.
Listening now for the call
A simple rise, the light will fall.
The black flame will always burn… 

Something

Something on the horizon lies, it speaks, it lives, and it breathes.
It wills to go on and whether or not the will of it succeeds, it finds its way. It finds its place, it finds its time, or finds its self not to be.   

Authors note: Fun fact, this was one of the first poems I ever wrote. I was surprised when I found it still sitting on my hard drive.