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Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
there were songs
that forgot the only songs
that would be remembered

there were sounds
that forgot the only sounds
that would be remembered

there were photographs
that forgot the only photographs
that would be remembered

and there were greetings
that forgot the only greetings
that would be remembered

out of fuel
out in space
the memory of
the human race
Sam Shoyer Apr 2015
Air is no thing
Or so I thought
But it pushes
Gently, at my skin
Edging its way in
Through my pores
And in my veins
Sliding swiftly up
To brace my brain
Filling spaces
That once I thought
Was nothing
Sam Shoyer Nov 2014
All you need is love
Love, anyone can produce
Its easy
Sam Shoyer May 2014
Tales of riches in sequins
Like a lavish cloak of red
Swirling around to catch
The soft touch of raw skin

Each begins far away
A swarm of bees you can hear
But cannot see
And draws closer
Capturing your mind
And holding it
In an oscillating state
Between trance and attention

You see the rubies
Wish to steal them yourself
From the merchant
You wish to seek council
From the Grand-Visir
Thwart the wicked Sultan
And trick the Genius

The tales weave from one to another
They are a stream
Dispersing in a delta
But following each small stream
Meeting back at the source
In an unending circle
Of stories large or small

Stories of old men passing by
Of brother princes splitting land
Of merchants voyaging to trade
Of cunning daughters plotting

No corner of the world to far
No event not to be believed
No action too kind
No punishment too severe
No journey too long
No treasure too hidden

These tales are the life within human blood
The life that has no boundaries
And looks only for the sun
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
Arriving in Japan
the clouds were
Sparse and peaceful,
all resting on the
invisible flat barrier
that divides earthy
from divine,

The sun set in
a deep orange glow,
changing the white
peaceful clouds to
powerful black shadows,
Behind the vista of Tokyo city
lay a pristine,
lone peak,
one that evokes
a specific wonder
in the simple form
of Triangle
Sam Shoyer Nov 2014
pull up
leaf blade fan

hot air balloon
rising red sea
salty, hot

let out
gentle sun
toes in sand
erased white board
Sam Shoyer Oct 2014
Syllables and sound
Many brain waves and senses
Not all conscious
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
the white crane
with paper wings
like paper planes
sails up above
and down
the muddy milky brown
it changes flight
goes out of sight
but its peace
will never leave me
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
and there…harold dreamt,
he dreamed of a boat,
one with a brown bottom,
and a rusty green rutter,
and it spun
and it spun,

the siem reap river,
of sunkissed toffee color,
he sailed on and on,
and stared at his brother,

he looked up above from the boat,
straight up at the hot steamy sun,
and his large white eyes,
stared up at a bird,

it was white and small,
with slender yellow legs,
that held a grace,
unlike any other

the crane flew in one circle above his head,
harold watched as it plummeted to the brown water below,
and at the last moment of its decent,
it shot up and across his horizon,
until it vanished
Sam Shoyer Oct 2014
An ocean of clouds
Catches light
In turn
Thrusts it at the sun
Pitching it black

The clouds hold the light
As colors set in
To break the day
Of white

The ocean hums
Beckoning for a day
Simpler than the one
It casts away with ease

The sun catches it
Turns the light away
Its pockets

An ocean of clouds
The waves settle as light leaves
To return in the tide of morning
Sam Shoyer May 2014
The grey taps the shoulders
Of the tallest buildings
The blue sits above
The green-yellow-white

To the left side of the bus
Sits the city
To the right side of the bus
Sit clouds-flowers-dead grass

On either side
The grey of the sky over the city
The yellow of the fields
The white of the clouds
Sam Shoyer May 2014
Amidst familiarity
Thought is a constant

Lose thought to learn
And learn to love yourself

Pursue the strange and uncomfortable
Be not the fish bowl fed on time and left to wade in usual space
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
particles, surging in bubbles
in a great barrier
between the space we know
and what we know only to call space
The faint whispers of humanity
cannot be heard from here
not even the light
of the only star we know
the sun we love
can be seen

the voyager continues on its collision course
with mystery and unknown
and breaks through the barrier
because it cannot divert
and enters deep space
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
there is a quick energy here
the scooters flow without caution
traffic courses like a delta
changing, dynamic in every moment

a city in the wake of pain
constructing, making anew
the streets are wet and *****
yet every bush is neatly trimmed
Sam Shoyer Nov 2014
I try
to get rid
Of my
Open My
third Eye
try to Fly

once there is no Try
nor - I
will Fly
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
tiny blue houses line the beige, red, and green grass that lines the runway

the city from above is a rainbow mosaic of bustling focus,
in markets, on scooters, in neatly trimmed parks

now it fades to white, a blending for from ground to sky
meeting, joining, the whispy clouds that lay, for now above
Hồ Chí Minh city
Sam Shoyer May 2014
The music rises me from bed
My hibernation broken
My eyes shut for months
Finally break open
Eggs cracking against a countertop
My legs begin to shake
As if they haven't moved before
My back is bundled up inside me
Like a spring fully pushed in
My mouth breathes hot breaths
That sour the air around
In an immense discomfort
I rise for the day
I stretch my feet to stand on toes
To teach my legs to move again
Throw my hands to touch the ceiling
Let the spring of my back unwind
And stretch from floor to ceiling
Rub my eyes to brush away the shells
That shut my eyes too soon ago
I brush my teeth to cool the heat
And let the tension fade
The pressure in my arms and legs
Flows through the stretch and out my toes
My back is bouncy freely now
The spring determines where to go
My breath is cool and comfortable
With mint to taste as cold as snow
This is not a ritual
It may just be for one today
From sleep to wake
Discomfort to comfort
The music rises me from bed
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
when it is still, it reflects
the baby blue sky above

the waves, each sparkle
with the light brown
Coconut toffee made by locals

muddy and Overgrown, it is
the beautiful home of
Wild pythons, chicken, and rooster

Rice Popping, snake wine
fermenting, hot black sand

wood boats of Green and
Brown with Red eyes that
lead the way across the
water to the Floating Markets
Sam Shoyer May 2014
If the skies should open
I would glow
Every nerve a bit warmer
The plane that is my sense of touch
On jumping pegs of jollity

And if the skies should drop
I would laugh
Comfort leaving for comedy's sake
The plane that is my sense of touch
Taught to reflect the world around

The skies hold
Police cars race by
The people planes and cars trot behind them
Grass jitters in a cold breeze to my right
Water sways to emulate the dance of the grass to my left
Cold stone holds me parallel
To skies that may open
To skies that may drop
To skies that hold
All for now
Sam Shoyer Oct 2014
The first and only morning
An event to be heard
The birds ask if rain has stopped
Replies confirm the resounding "yes"
The winds blow gentle
With only the intent to be noticed
The flies emerge with buzzing glee
As the final droplets of rain
Pull away from the tips of the pines
Dropping one by one
On the curious grass
Inviting the water in silence
Sam Shoyer Oct 2014
Rising late to rolling white
Clouds that roll off mountains
Like water down a waterfall
Slowly blanketing the valley in grey
Gently touching every rock

Pouring gently in slow motion
Crawling without destination
Like a newborn calmly flailing
On its first test of motion

Growing, shrinking, with the wind
Change is all it knows
For now it moves at pace so slow
The pouring white has stopped time

The pitter patter ceases
Brings robins songs to echo
Through the clouds
Against the grey white blanket
Falling to my ears
Sam Shoyer Oct 2014
Mountain air so crisp
Eager sun to kiss my lips
Valley sings a song
Sweet as glacial water
Pooling, icy at my feet
Bare and cut
They pace me through
The highest mountain pass
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
echoing in my head
i am compelled
my knee begins
to pulse up and down
my head
weaves back and forth
my shoulders
they slide
side to side

the synth is the hot sand
warming my feet
compelling me
to rest my face upon it
like warm paper
hot from the printer
i lay my whole body
in the sand

the bass
is an amtrak train
from washington
to new york
flashing the swampy green
and beautiful lakes
across your eyes
faster than a movie
it is real

the drums are a tiny room
and i am a small red ball
elated, uncontrollable
i ricochet off every wall
faster and faster
the walls appear hard
but are soft
to the touch

i close my eyes

my hands are stretched
out close to my sides,
i see the world in
four quadrants

one is the beach...
the sun now sets
and an orange glow
blinds me for a moment,
through squinting eyes
the majesty of the
waves, rolling in orange,
shocks me
in a single orange beam
straight through my heart
and out into the other quadrants

i turn my hips
to reveal the second quadrant
and i am suddenly on a train
shooting through the air in front
from metal tracks on the ground
around me are trees
climbing and sliding upwards
their trunks rotating in slow circles

the green grows
and grows
in moments it fills the world
consuming my sight
all is green for a moment

and then the green shrinks
forming corners as it disappears
becoming a cube
then the cube grows
and in front of me
grows a red door
and it opens
and again
i am a bouncing
red ball
and for a moment
i am fully present
in bouncing

then i fall, gravity ceasing
and i am back standing
with my hands to my sides
and i see the fourth quadrant
i see myself
grinning and shaking
swinging my whole body
in random patterns
in my chair, at my desk
typing a poem on my computer
Sam Shoyer Oct 2014
A purple stain
Just above
Scattered orange
Cheesy grimy
Brands of experience
Saggy sleeves
Rolled up
Too many times
Worn by use
Shown in white ripples
An ocean rolling
Up my arm
Each a stone
Smoothed over years
Under mountain stream
In their dull silence
Every seam stretched
Visible stitches
Made in China
Made in Taiwan
Only a world away
Through the portal
Of the itchy tag
On my ***** shirt
Sam Shoyer Oct 2014
Your trunk is firm
Your leaves collect the wind
You stand alone
Glowing orange
Deeper than the others
Assimilating in brown
You imply attention
With the beauty of your trunk
One with all else
Still one
Sam Shoyer Apr 2015
They made me a racehorse
Blinders and all
Huffing and scuffing my hoofs
Impatiently at the dirt
The open track ahead
But against my chest a wooden board
I heave and pant but it won't break
I wish it gone but here it stays
Twisting turning, turning red
Hot air balloons within my head
Wet steam rising from my nose
My chest is raw and splintery

But I will break it
Break through to the open track
Spreading my legs as long as I can
Forward, sideways, any way I want to go
Heaving and panting just the same
But free, this time
Sam Shoyer Oct 2014
A road is a destination
Not more so
A way of travel
It rolls by you
And you by it
Turning to match the contours
Yearning to be the contours

You are the road
And it is you
Like elbows and knees
It takes its shape
Bends, snaps to
Straight lengths
Of black
Your feet
Sam Shoyer May 2014
Blue tapping line
Quivering pen

Ten thousand things
In ten thousand words

Mouths from here and there
Lights in front and far away

A magic dust that can't been seen
With eyes that wait

Wait for the line to speak
Wait for the pen to write

Those who drop the pen
Shut the cap
Break in half
Cuff their pants
Run the sand

Running in patterns made of lines
Shapes made anew

Lines and shapes for just today
Today for broken pens
Today for ten thousand things
Today for ten thousand words
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
spinning and turning
the seasons
dissolve into
a continuous
merry-go round
of cold, heat
laughter, growth

green becomes
red and yellow
then brown,
Sam Shoyer May 2014
I struggle with my shadow
It makes me as a border
Between me the grass and man
But I see the shadow beside me
Black as mine
Shaped as mine
A human shadow
The color of mine
As much mine as his
And I see the shadow in front of me
Black as mine
Not shaped as mine
A tree's shadow
The color of mine
As much mine as his
I thank my shadow
It erases my borders
Between me the grass and man
Sam Shoyer Apr 2015
many shoes to fill
many shoes to fill, I know
come dance with me
Sam Shoyer Apr 2015
shadows dance with light
toe to toe along the leaves
laughing in the wind
Sam Shoyer May 2014
Patter down to the creek

Hold the stare of the deer pausing

Waiting… Waiting
Sam Shoyer May 2014
That Tree
Over There
Is Bigger than you Think

Its Leaves
Up There
Are Greener than you Think

The Trunk
Down There
Is Wider than you Think

The Roots
Under There
Stretch Further than you Think

That Tree
It lives
The leaves
The trunk
Stands firm
The roots
Sam Shoyer Nov 2014
There is an ocean within me,
the tide comes in
and draws back out,
it knows no boundaries
yet graces thousands of beaches,
it stirs
and it is calm,
some fear it
some embrace its shores
few are sailors,
at night it is black
it is deep,
at dawn it is grey
it is cloudy,
at noon
it is blue
it is green
it is clear
Sam Shoyer May 2014
This is the end of my thumb
A pen run dry the ink feels numb
Its written books on thinner mirrors
Cobalt patterns smooth the errors

Hops from spots to spots
Sturdier that eyes with dots
No warmth to refill this pen
It leaves along with days that end

An igloo at the equator
Forced within refrigerator
Water bottle filled to its top
No cap on top to let it drop

My thumb envies daggers as it fades
A spaceship top in black it craves
Here is the end of my thumb
My mouth must speak of times, I know
Sam Shoyer Oct 2014
Today I flew
Like Michael Jordan
Air Jordan
Over my handlebars
Hung in the air
Spread out my arms
Felt the air
Push my chest
Up, hanging
Over concrete
Like a flying squirrel
In the first moment of flight

Then I dove
Hands first
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
the dark navy hood of his jacket
stretches a few inches
past his forehead,
concealing his face

he pulls a wagon
full of blue salt
across the pavement
while a flurry of snow
falls around him

in a quick and deliberate rhythm
he tosses the salt
out like a serious flower girl
quietly ensuring
that it all goes
as planned
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
all it knows is left behind
the voyager is alone

it wanders through the unknown
it wanders through the unseen

colors of never before
patterns and shapes of lost planets and moons
through dust and through soaring mountains,
the voyage is all it knows
Sam Shoyer May 2014
The water sways beneath our feet
The boats and wind to guide it
In following an unexplainable course
With no source or direction to be seen

The water sways beneath our feet
Our words and minds to guide it
In following an unexplainable course
With no source or direction to be seen

The lack of understanding is the beauty
And only that is understood
Feelings felt from miles away
Beneath our feet as water sways

Your eyes glow an easy brown
And save me from impending frown
The thought to say goodbye so long
Ties my throat in tricky knots

A happiness as sad could be
Swells my mind so viciously
Feelings light as feathers
Matched by those of bricks

Each touch so easy
Each thought so hard
To miss and long for our embrace
Shown now in lines upon my face

In easy eyes I know reflect
Each feeling felt on either end
I don't need to say and neither do you
Each brick and feather shared between two
Sam Shoyer Jan 2015
-President Jimmy Carter

speak in the way that we do
and show them the way we see
how we hear sounds
in the time that we hear them
and let them tell our story forever

maybe we'll be known forever,
the lonely and confused mankind,
who lives through the highest pursuit of joy
with colors
and survival,
or maybe our Earth is a story that will never be told,
ours to enjoy in any way we can,
only for the reason that we are here,
and we are alive

— The End —