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Sam Maccorrio' Profile

Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
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About Me and My Poetry

Self-taught poet; born in Ohio, most of my life in Texas; Combat veteran of 7 years, been on several Humanitarian missions; father, brother, son, grandfather, Uncle, battle-buddy; Been around the world, seen much, a lot of life, more of death; I dabble in verse, I am not exactly a molded poet, I say the words as they flow, and make no effort to rewrite what first came. I don't care if people like or dislike my poems, I write to convey and invoke feelings. If you feel something after reading one of my poems, my job is done.

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About My Poem

Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
I am infinitesimal stardust lost amidst the lightless, unfathomable expanse of the unknown. I relegate to a state of contentment as I watch my brethren struggle to be known. I find myself the exception of the exceptions content with my rejection from the masses.

I am dust floating on the winds with the sands of time, flitting from instance to instance without true reason or rhyme. I chuckle as my brethren struggle against these winds, frantically search for ways to escape the inescapable truth that all things end.
... continued
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Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
Sleepless nights, abyssal jaunts with spectral hosts.
Ethereal gazes and ghastly grazes within this realm of limbo.
Mindless-mindfulness as I daydream-sleepwalk through the mundane days of glassed buildings creeping to the heavens, of clock-punching and key-tapping, awaiting the moon's rise and the night's embrace to join my kin through the twilight. The touch of spirits, so cold and eerie, yet warm and comforting all the same; of three-eyed ravens and nine-tailed foxes, only ever glimpsed.
... continued
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Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
Racism
senseless, monotonous
frustrating, debilitating, weakening
... continued
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Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
If there ever was a God,
where has he been all these years?
Bodies lined amassing in the sod,
... continued
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Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
Snow flurries dance on wind as ghosts of this winter's end.
Flakes in multitudes at such a time as this,
Vexing little sprites of nature's twists.
... continued
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Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
*A work in progress.

A mountain on the horizon,
... continued
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Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
A bulb in a meadow
flowers with the Sun's great kiss
though it is not without thorns.
... continued
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Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
The year unwinds, as the ground becomes pale with rime. A time to be kind, air of glee, filled with chimes. Carried on winter winds, the season's fragrances waft with thyme. Awash with the joy of Yuletide, ovens smell of fresh baked rye, of roasted fowl and golden pie. Spring, an' summer, an' fall Wodan chides, with hoary mane where ice does cling. Waster as if stone and the forest groans and moans. Even time stands still, seemingly frozen, beneath the wintery veil. Only to thaw as life does spring. Cheery folk with mugs of frothy ale, sharing smiles and boisterous tales, of far off lands and memories as distant. Such renewal hidden under a shroud so bleak, such beauty spawned from a canvas so stagnant. O! Father Winter for this I thank, a toast to you, remembrance to all who's life we speak. Reflections from memory as if from ice, of past lives, old friends and sacrifice.
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Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
Jack does cast a grin alight, black cats prowl this haunted night, Samhain has now arrived, leaving all quite contrived, as Jack's eyes shine so bright, and distant howls do cause a fright. Havest ends and spirits rise, from bleached bones with ghastly cries, mindless waltz of the risen dead fill the air with a ghoulish dread. Banshees wail a soulful keening, heeding those who know its meaning witches cackle on brooms in flight someone is going to die tonight Little kids walk up the path unaware of the monsters yearning stare, tasty morsels for the were, gleaming eyes reflect the moon
bellowing out a viscious tune rushing forward with great speed intent on attempting this devilish deed chilled to core and stiff with fear the children freeze as the noise draws near turning slightly to attempt to see Jack in hand, face full of glee as ghostly figure came out but only it let out a shout
the power of the jack o lantern jumped out at it and starts to burn Poor old Jack now left to roam with his trickster soul without a home His hollow shell ruined, his spirit moans as it floats away into the unknown.
... continued
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Siberian_huskies_play_on_riverside_park_grass_20091212
Boiling blood, rage-filled veins of lava crack
blood-shot eyes, piercing as if daggers
roaring mounth, flame spewing ire
... continued
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