Comments Posted By sam

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I loved my grandmother’s old type writer. The click, click of the keys and the way the ink would smudge just so. I had to have it.. It took some convincing but she finally gave in. It was all mine.

» Posted By Sam On 04.03.2013 @ 3:44 am

Don’t think. My hands are shaking. What’s a smudge? Can I type in the time allotted? Will my words make sense as I try and fumble with the letters that I see in black and white, crisp and bold. I know what it means, but what can it equivocate to? Am I spelling everything right? This is a mess, and all my thoughts mirror the pressure involved in having to write about a smudge in less than a minute.

» Posted By Sam On 04.02.2013 @ 2:50 pm

It’s a mess on the page. Grey, filthy, a smear. A tear drop is the cause for the interruption between the fine lines and the pronounced letters in black and white dictating the story that she wished to be told. Her tear was the reason that from crisp and perfect it became an ugly smudge, a blur.

» Posted By Sam On 04.02.2013 @ 2:47 pm


People are facetious. Their egos are inflated, their outward appearances and displays of apparent aesthetic are often fake. Their words are lofty, while some may be articulate and others not so, they are often an inflated version of what they really want to say. People have a hard time expressing themselves in a world where how you are to express yourself is dictated to you by powerful and overwhelming marketing. Appearances, desires, purposes, are fabricated. Words, phrases, promises, are fabricated.

» Posted By Sam On 04.01.2013 @ 8:02 pm


Every now and then I hear a cry. I want to go to it. To hold her. Comfort her. Tell her that everything is going to be okay. But then I see the blasted walls, bombed streets, and know I would be lying. I crawl aroung the corner and see her curled in the one corner not scorched by the blast. My vision goes black again, I lay down my head. If you only look at her, and nothing else surrounding you, it looks like we’re back to playing hide and seek.

“Nine, ten! Here I come!!”

When I heard the giggles behind the rocking chair I walked the other way.

“Where are you…?”

Rustling as she shifts to peek out at me as I walk into the kitchen.

“Where could she have gone?”

I turn back around and head back towards the couch. As I get closer to her hiding spot more nervous giggles begin. I reach behind the chair and grab her at her sides as she erupts into screeching laughter.

“There you are!”

I twirl her around and around till we fall onto the couch, laughing and squirming around each other. The timer goes off and we go silent, smiling as big as we can.


I head into the kitchen and open the oven door, perfect. I begin laying the cookies out on the


My eyes are blurry and my head hurts. Everything is black and white. Are my ears ringing? Yes. God my head. I sit up, sirens are going off in the background. The TV is still on. The ringing is killing my head. But it’s not in my head. It’s Emma. Emma is screaming. I look around. The walls are gone, leaving this side of the house open to the street. Neighboors are running. Why? Screaming. I have to find her. I stand, too fast, and my eyes go black, the ringing comes back, but I have to find her. I left her on the couch, which has gone grey with ash. Shes hiding in the corner I run to pick her up. She wraps her legs around me, her body shakes with her sobs. I hold her head to my neck, and I start running too.

The helecopter flies right over our neighborhood. Emma presses against me so she doesnt have to look out the window. In some places, it looks like nothing happened. Mr. Klines yard is still green and Ms. Webbers garden gnomes and flamingos are still standing around the yard. But our house, and all those around it look like skeletons. All the flesh blasted off leaving nothing but bones.

The flight takes too long, Emma gets restless. When we land she trips trying to get out. I pick her up and make my way to the building where nurses try to peel her from my arms. They end up checking her as she sits in my lap. When we are finally released, we are handed water, two blankets, and are pointed in the direction of a corner where we can sit till food is available.

“What about the cookies mama?”

“Well have to wait to make some new ones.”

She nodds and lays down on the blankets.

We talk as the kids run and play on the grass. We try to guess when we’ll be able to move into the houses being built. About the future our kids will have. About the blasts we hear on the other side of the mountain.

“Living underground wont be the same. Im afriad for the kids not seeing the sun, or getting fresh air.”

“Nothing will be the same”

Kaity was one of the parents who voted against underground housing. When the desision was made to empty out the storage facility downstairs and build temporary homes, her and several others protested. They wanted everything to go back to normal. “The ships have moved on from this area, we know they wont come back. It’s safe now!” The group leadres had argued for days, but eventually, underground was safest.

“Kaity, we can protect them underground. And It’s not like they’ll never see the outdoors again. This is temporary. Not to mention that it will be good for them to not breath in smoke for awhile. You cant even see the sun right now.”

We look out on our kids, laughing and playing in the sooty grass. This is for them. What we want doesn’t matter right now.

» Posted By Sam On 03.14.2013 @ 12:33 pm


Tales can be a part of an animal or a story of happiness, tragedy, love, or adventure. Either way they are wonderful.

» Posted By Sam On 03.11.2013 @ 4:23 pm


Jagged terrain. Rough terrain. Soft terrain. Mountainous terrain. The landscape of the world.

» Posted By Sam On 03.09.2013 @ 3:12 pm


My heart is a song
When it beats strong
I rejoice for I am living
Got to go on living
When it quites down
I know that its sound
Will fall to the ground
I’m returned once more
To that distant shore
With a smile from your kiss still on my lips
For in life I did sail a most magnificent ship

» Posted By Sam On 03.08.2013 @ 7:15 am


Mixed signals. That’s what he was giving me. Did he like me? Sometimes it almost seemed like he did. And then the next day he’d wave off my attempts at conversation and nonchalantly act as if he had no notion of my existence. Was I still in love with him? Sadly, yes, I still was. I still am. I always will be, I think.

» Posted By Sam On 03.06.2013 @ 4:16 pm


She wasn’t weak. She could go as far, do just as much, as any other person here, she knew. But no one else did. No one else believed she could. She looked unassuming, long blonde hair that lay in a tangle of waves to her waist and large grey eyes, stormy like her current emotions. Her pale skin and flawless features worked to make her innocence and youth over shine what others would consider. She hated it. She was not weak, no matter what they all thought.

» Posted By Sam On 03.04.2013 @ 1:46 am


The old man opened his robe and held the magic wand between his wrinkled fingers. He looked at the young boy and once again conjured a bear.

» Posted By Sam On 03.02.2013 @ 10:29 am


I was sentenced to death, Can you believe it? My own people sentenced me to death. I didn’t even do anything wrong. Well yeah, I might have killed someone… but it was for the villages good. Now I am going to be stoned. And not in the way I would like.

» Posted By Sam On 02.28.2013 @ 3:12 pm


knock knock. John heard the knocking but he ignored it. he was terrified, he didn’t want them to find him. he didn’t want to end up like his wife. john went to bed. he had a regular night. John didn’t live until the morning.

» Posted By Sam On 02.27.2013 @ 8:53 pm

knock knock.
john hears the knocking on his door, but he deosnt answer. he is terrified they will find him. He is terrified they will take him, like they did with his wife. John didnt respond. he went to bed. It was an average night. John didn’t live to see the next morning.

» Posted By Sam On 02.27.2013 @ 8:44 pm

Just a small speck on the sun is what they were aiming for immediately prior to the knock. The sun was his first sight as he awoke also.

» Posted By Sam On 02.27.2013 @ 5:08 pm


“Choose a different place to sit!”
The scream startled passers-by. At least it would have done if they cared.

» Posted By Sam On 02.25.2013 @ 1:49 pm


I looked upon her pretty face,
Thought I that she could see me now,
For all I’m worth and all I seek,
Apart a week, too long; I see
The spot that did embellish,
The side of her cheek.

» Posted By Sam On 02.24.2013 @ 1:38 pm


Inside the cave I found what I had been looking for. it had eluded me for so long; so long in fact that I had forgotten that I had been looking for it, that I needed in…nay, that it even existed. But now that I have found it I burn inside again.

» Posted By Sam On 02.23.2013 @ 3:10 pm

Its like another solution for one who always tries to alter his life from his birth to death, but never demending something like that, darkness, in a cold mountain, but inside its cozy atu

» Posted By sam On 02.23.2013 @ 11:17 am


tattered and torn, beaten by the rain, the storm. An American flag hanging from a front porch. An elderly man’s face with wrinkles that tell stories. faded.

» Posted By Sam On 02.20.2013 @ 11:37 am


i don’t know what sanctity means, it sounds nice when i say it in my head, almost like the sound of a tranquil triangle or chim. i feel like it is a peaceful word with nice meaning, or a god given right. i dont know what else to say.

» Posted By sam On 02.15.2013 @ 1:07 am


growing plants growing ideas growing older, getting older ready to move on. done with everything finished nothing growing onward and upward and moving along with the journey. growing

» Posted By sam On 02.08.2013 @ 4:45 pm


I wonder what my husband will be like. I hope he is handsome, tall, and athletic. He also needs to be somewhat sensitive, as well as funny, and protective. I want to feel safe with him and trust that we will have children and he will love them and shower them with gifts and love and attention. Also, I hope he can cook.

» Posted By Sam On 02.04.2013 @ 6:59 pm


bumps and bruises
cuts and scabs
freckles, moles, spots
I have
splotches, dots
scars and wounds

» Posted By Sam On 01.31.2013 @ 7:49 pm


Swell, oh a word i hear the birtish say, how I wish i said it more. I wish swell would swell in my cheeks so swell could wriggle its way through my lips. swelling, bloating, bursting out. Swell. Everything would be swell if I could only say swell more.

» Posted By Sam On 01.30.2013 @ 6:08 pm


The thing about being cool is, it’s generally easier to ‘be cool’ than people think. I mean, without ‘conforming’ too much (but just enough) one can be deemed ‘cool’ and thus become popular. Material goods, eclectic interests and hobbies, and so on, all combine to help someone be/become ‘cool’.

» Posted By Sam On 01.27.2013 @ 6:31 pm


real lear, really relaxed when I can really write
finger to germ really unreal
not really fluency when you really edit

» Posted By Sam On 01.22.2013 @ 1:38 pm


You visit me
I see you peek through your eyes
Making sure the reality
You’ve tried to disappear
Is in fact
Still there
I see you
You know,
Deep down
In the heart,
I know is still there

» Posted By Sam On 01.21.2013 @ 11:29 pm

Sometimes I dread visiting there. You know that feeling you get when you’re flying over the ocean and you think you might crash? Or maybe even the feeling of being on a roller coaster; except cut out the good stuff.

» Posted By Sam On 01.21.2013 @ 12:42 pm


Everything in your path is broken. shattered. We go on with our lives, destroying friendships, relationships. Loved ones and people we care about turn into strangers. It’s time to let go. Time for the healing to start.

» Posted By sam On 01.19.2013 @ 3:39 pm

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