ITERATION

•April 1, 2023 • Leave a Comment

Again I’ve loved;
Again I’ve given all For pain in return, I wonder;
Were the moments of joy
Worth the price I had to pay? I wonder,
How many more such fates
Must I suffer before fulfillment Is mine?
I grow weary of posing questions
To myself;
I tire of the feeling that engulfs My spirit so.
I must remember,
No one ever said that my love Would be returned as sent; No one ever warned me,
That I would meet her
Nor that we’d know each other so.
As time rushes by,
My mind returns to the dust-covered Shelves of patience
To await the next encounter with Love.
As my mind makes a maddening
The effort at reconciling itself with Inner peace,
I can’t help but ask myself if it was
Just a dream;
But I know,
There is no such thing as-


Loving In Vain.

Sammie L. Carter copyright March 03, 1977

Posted in Poetry

“RELUCTENTLY” (re-write)

•May 14, 2020 • 2 Comments

As I dare to dive into yon sparkling sea,

I was drawn to purge my heart in its tranquility.

And struggled so hard I did,

to avoid its tranquil deep.

Still, I’m dazzled and dazed,

Mesmerized and nearly paralyzed by this,

your barest essence

The birth of your love,

In which I wish so to bath.

Each spark of your love compounded and refined,

As it was volleyed back and forth between your will and mine.

Until it exploded into thousands of thousands ofs.

And as I strained to dare, dare to turn and run,

I was overtaken by the surge of this beguilingly calm Sea of Tranquility.

Then found I myself rooted to the beach of your love.

Overtaken I was,

By a mighty wave of I must-

Dare I? Must not!

I found a reluctant strength,

In knowing –

A knowing that it more powerful than hoping;

And by knowing, I was pulled from rest in thy breast;

From the shore of yon sea.

Through the portals of your soul

For we both know

Even so reluctantly,

That this like many hopes

Are dreams of fantasy over powered by this reality.

For that we know should be

We wish could be

But we also know what is

Therefore, what isn’t can’t be;

Or can it?

Pondering o’er such a question finds a song

Wrote long ago flowing through my mind

But not my heart:

“It’s over; before it starts, it’s over!

To warm my bed and rest my head,

Shall never be.

To hold my hand and understand;

Such pain I see – in knowing

That before it starts,

It is over.”

This fairytale is over;

“Reluctantly”

Before it starts-

IT’S OVER

By Sammie L. Carter

Copyright 4/15/1977 Sam373

Posted in Opinion, Poetry, Relationship, Socialization
Tags: , ,

I’M NOT ALONE.

•May 11, 2020 • Leave a Comment

My dad died when I was 15 months old. Mom never remarried. I remember one of three men friends she had, came to our house drunk and she chased him away with a broom. She was a high-yeller George girl. She commanded respect! I remember getting mad at God; figuring that if He had not killed my Dad, my dad would have been there to teach me how to deal with the gangs of Detroit and simply how to be a man. I had come to my wit’s end, one Thursday in July of 1969, as I made my way to choir rehearsal. I had decided to kill two or more of the men that blocked my way; as they did almost every Thursday. To my surprise, I heard a familiar voice that I remembered from my childhood days. That voice I had heard before, many times in the back of my mind, now had physical presence. I immediately recalled those  angry words accusing Him of Killing my dad; when He said, “But I want to be your Father and Dad.” Never before had an image of what I thought was a man appeared. He or it was in and out of focus. Still, I knew. Literally, before me, this time. He appeared there on Hartford St., North of McGraw; at about 6:30 pm, north of the alley, by that big Ash tree, stood a man and said, “On your way to choir rehearsal; I’m not sure if it was a statement or question; still, I replied “yes”. He then said: “I’ll walk you down the street.”  This man looked like a friend of my mother, but He was out of focus! Yea! It was Weird!        

As He walked a step behind and to the right of me. I could see Him out of the corner of my eye as I often turned to see if those guys had started to chase me; as they often did, but not this time. As we neared the corner of Cobb and Hartford St. He said: “Well Sammie, I’ll be seeing you.” I turned immediately to reply but found no one by my side nor nearby. That gang was still where I left them, standing in the street at the other end of the block, just North of the alley. I’ve never seen, not one of those gang members again! Nor has the “Captain of the Lord’s Host” appeared to me again. I know that I have never been alone again.

This experience was just one of more than five supernatural interventions in my life. Whether it be God incarnate or an angelic being is irrelevant; it does not matter, I know that it has been and continues to be God by my side, all 65 plus years of my life.  

What your life has been to date, is not as unique as you think but it is nevertheless, uniquely yours. Believe me; when I say, “It was made just for you.” If only for the faith of your mother’s prayers for you; you have never been alone. Just as I have always wanted; I have always had a Father by my side. Believing that He is there was –

The First Step

Sam373’sBlog.com@wordpress.com 7/11/16, 0400hrs

Posted in Opinion, Relationship, Religion\Spirituality
Tags: , , , ,

Then To Be Forgotten

•August 6, 2012 • Leave a Comment

The Sun shines

upon mountains grand and small;

Glaciers that resemble dirty white frocks

that peep their age as they cry

tears the size of rain drops

that etch deep furrows in their stately phi sod

And wash away sleep and dander the size of boulders

from their all have been seen eyes.

Even they

Live and die

Laugh and cry

Learn contentment then dismay

Still,

The sun shines on upon their unaffected composure

And I wonder;

Will their place at the table of life be remembered?

Will anyone recount their birth,

Those mistakes they made?

Those bad decisions of adolescence

Or even their graduation into adulthood?

Will anyone recount their wisdom earned

Or their advice spurned?

The facts we will remember are that they are simply dirt;

Spewed out by this living thing called planet earth

Blown by the wind swept up by the rain and washed away by glacial rivers

Created by tears of regret that flow so freely down those

Facial furrows etch over a life time upon their stately brow;

Then to Be Forgotten

By

Sammie L. Carter

Copyright 12Aug2012 1032hrs Sam373

Posted in Poetry
Tags: , , , , , ,

WE ARE THE BLACK MAN

•March 9, 2011 • 10 Comments

I am a Black Man.

I was born of a dirt-brown woman;

I cry tears of blood,

My veins run wet with sweat.

I am a Black Man-

I was raised in the shadows of despair

Nurtured by the sting of the scourge

Though my muscles ache by day

And my phallus throbs by night,

My mind continues to reel and rock

As my freedom I try to plot

I am a Black Man-

I cut my teeth on lead-based paint

And skinned my knee on racial hate,

I am a Black Man;

Torn from my native soil

Used like pools of unnatural oil

Refined, confined, derided by men.

I am a Black Man

And I feel so all alone!

I was a slave-

An infinite entity in durance vile,

In search of freedom I thought I had found.

I’ve looked around to find few of my

Fellow conned victims present, why?

The way out was not so hard to find—

And to my dismay, “my” Black Woman is not here.

So she to,  is unable to break the chains

That bind her!

Indeed, I feel so all alone;

Now that I’m free, how free, am I

When she is not.

I am a Black Man.

Though I have overcome my fate

Where oh Mother of Africa is my Amazonian mate?

Strong and serene to fight by my side;

Both refusing to die.

We must overcome our hate by perpetuating its fate.

We complete each other.

So come Black Woman

Let us lead the way

We are the essence of the whole Black Race

Destined to be, are we-

Though my muscles bulge an my spirit soars,

I am incomplete without my Black Mate

For that I am not, she is

The tender creature I’ve forgotten how to be

And in my war torn mind

She is my comforting peace.

Though we grow weary of the test

We strive on for the battle rages on.

Oh! Brown skinned beauty

Reminder of my native pride

Of which to will they try to deny…

But it shall never die

For I am a Black Man;

With my Black Woman,

WE ARE THE BLACK MAN

by

     Sammie L. Carter

      Copyright 8\15\77

Posted in Poetry, Relationship, Socialization, The Governed Speak
Tags: , , , , , ,

FLOWERS

•April 1, 2023 • 1 Comment

Verse 1:

I’ll take you on a journey, to the land of the flowers

Where the petals are bright and the air smells so sour

A place that’s worth exploring, with a beauty so pure

It’s the home of the blooms, the place that I’m sure

Chorus:

Flowers, they bloom in the sun

Flowers, they bring us so much fun

Flowers, they make us feel alive

Flowers, they bring us peace of mind

Verse 2:

The colors of the flowers, so vibrant and bold

They give us life and a beauty to behold

The scent of the petals, so sweet and so divine

It’s the beauty of nature, we just can’t define

Chorus:

Flowers, they bloom in the sun

Flowers, they bring us so much fun

Flowers, they make us feel alive

Flowers, they bring us peace of mind

Verse 3:

These flowers are the stars, they bring us so much joy

The colors of the petals, like a rainbow in the sky

Take a deep breath, enjoy the sweet aroma

It’s the beauty of nature that we hold so dear

Chorus:

Flowers, they bloom in the sun

Flowers, they bring us so much fun

Flowers, they make us feel alive

Flowers, they bring us peace of mind

By Michelle D. Carter copywrite 4/01/2023@sam373

Posted in Poetry

Questions in My Sleep

•November 2, 2022 • Leave a Comment

Friday, February 22, 2013

http://wp.me/p16xW7-Ld by Sue Dreamwalker

She quoted a phrase: “F-E-A-R= Feeling Excited And Ready”

“…The Book is entitled “ When Everything Changes, Change Everything” by Neale Donald Walsch, a book about the very nature of change and how life itself works, it reveals why change happens and speaks of the many changes we are each experiencing and seeing occurring and how we can change our experience through altering our perception of change. Which many now are doing…”

phoenix-in-a-circle-hi
fire-rays-spiral_gg4469495

At 0228 hrs 02/22/2013, I awoke from a not-so-relaxing sleep and after tossing long enough to give myself a headache, I sought out my 
Creator, inquiring.  The thoughts and assignments that are on my to-do list were not satisfying so I set them on the shelf of procrastination to face later. After preparing a cup of coffee, figuring as I so often do, to start the day earlier; I sat down at my computer and was drawn or led to my family of Kindred Spirit.  And befitting as her name implies, Sue Dreamwalker stepped so carefully into my soul, and from my alpha thoughts, she sweep away the white noise and freed me from the chaos of a self-imposed prison of random thoughts. As those dusty thoughts fell away, revealed to me for the first time was a myriad of alpha thoughts woven into spiraling bands coursing around the interior of my skull on varied axis’  with a glowing light source in the center pulsating with every one of my heartbeats. And from somewhere outside of me came an understanding that every spiraling cord was the genesis, maturing, and demise of every thought that I have and have had. Still unknown to me or unsure am I as to what is that pulsating light in the center? Could it be that each of us is a phoenix of sorts and the bands of thoughts follow the circle of life? The many thoughts born in the core of our being life and die; some before reaching maturity and thus become trash floating around in our brain? While others are metamorphosised into actions applauded or regretted?  All I know for sure is that I feel the sun rising within me as my eyes see the darkness watching from the other side of the window pane. Is it possible that my ego is stirring from its sleep while my id is laying down to rest? I  thank the Dreamwalker for this revelation for insight is not easily arrived at.  To think that the many words twirling around the maelstrom of possibilities could fall into that core and be reborn as a poem or prose or even feelings.

Dreamwalker                                                                                                                                                           

Sammie Carter                                                                                                                                                                                     copyright 02/22/2013

Posted in Poetry

ODE TO OBEY

•September 16, 2022 • Leave a Comment

If you were a true Black Woman, you would be able to converse with me on my level.

But you’re merely an aberration,

A figment of your own under nourished, Deprived, over inflated, undereducated Imagination, and

Forced by your own insecurity, you lash Out at my definite, unavoidable Blackness.

For I am the Black Man.

Complex, Intricate, Diverse, Plural, indescribably infinite in fathomless Depth.

I am.

I am what I please when I please, where I’m pleased to be, me.

No need to be what I’m not, for I am all things,

And everything to me, that it would Please me to be.

Whatever conjecture, whatever conjuncture, I am me.

I need not envy nor desire to be Anything that I’m not,

Because I am.

I know me and like me; I must live for me.

I deem it a privilege, to be… Ever free to be…

Me.

Now woman, join me.

Ascend that spiral staircase that entwines Thine soul, to the top.

There find thyself waiting to be found­ by you.

Fear not to cry, but

Cry aloud that you might know that you can Feel, hurt, love, then live.

Join me in being.

Fearing not what others may say. Climb the mountain to the top!

Descend into the abyss knowing that you will rise again, never having said that you have fallen-

Fly, glide, up high in the limitless Sky; knowing that you are a spirit, which can never die.

In finding yourself know that you       

Can be…

Yes, as we can be That we are.

Truly, forever free to be, Diversities of personality Personified in the plural, Yet, singular.

ODE TO OBY

BY Sammie L. Carter

Sam373’s Blog copy write July 3, 1981 0500 hrs.

Posted in Poetry

Death is an Angel

•September 12, 2022 • Leave a Comment

Death is an Angel, with a very special job.

Sometimes welcomed, And sometimes not.

But commissioned by God; nevertheless.

Most of us are afraid of Death.

Why is not clear.

Sometimes welcomed

But most often not.

Still an Angel, nevertheless.

Scripture teaches me that Death is the last power to be destroyed by

Christ Jesus.

Could it be because Death was commissioned by God to

Make real God’s penalty for sin?

We should remember that Death was always meant to be temporary but a penalty just the same.

The ultimate penalty for rejecting God’s will is eternal separation from God.

For we were created to be His Family.

But like most family members, they are most often appreciated once they have died.

Nevertheless, Death is an Angel that came to do a specific job like every one of us.

So, what is your job?

Sammie Carter

Sam373’sBlog

copyright@ Wednesday, August 31, 2022 7:57 PM

Posted in Opinion, Poetry, Religion\Spirituality
Tags:

A LESSON LEARNED?

•February 27, 2020 • Leave a Comment

How Strange it is to think I know the will of God for my life.
How strange it is, to think that I can know someone That I talk at but seldom listen to.
How strange it is To want someone to love me even when I’m not sure what that Love should look like?

So often we say, “I’m gotta take a chance”! With something as important as my love? No, the love I guard is not my own! But it is to me worth more than what; to whom?

How strange it is to realize that That someone does Love me enough; And has placed me in a place where I am able to be Loved. Love must be realized in order to be immulated. How can someone that has never known Love, Love?

So, to think that I was created to Love as I had hoped to be Loved; Then left, so to think, if not to know; Then to know That I too was loved But not as I thought I wanted to be Loved; hummmn?!

How Strange it is to think I know the will of God for my life.
How strange it is, to think that I can know someone that I talk at but seldom listen to.
How strange it is to want someone to Love me; When I’m not sure what that Love might or should look like.

So often we say, “I gotta take a chance”! But this love that I guard is not worthy! But it is to me worth more than nothing to me?

How strange it is that someone has Love me enough to be placed in a position that forces me to Love them more: For Love must be realized or someone will never know the Love they never gave; until they can’t give it. To think, that I was created to love as I had hoped to be Loved And left, so I think, to learn that I to was loved but it was not the Love I wanted thus; I did not appreciate that I had it, all along.

So, I conclude; That Love is given that we may know what Love truly looks like. But what of the person that give such Love? Must I return that Love as given? As if it were a favor owed? Would that be Love or

A DEBUT TO BE PAID

Sammie L. Carter

Sam373’s Blog.com 2/01/2019 0243hrs

Posted in Uncategorized

I AM READY

•October 29, 2019 • Leave a Comment

Greetings:

There has been a lot of talk of late regarding the subject of growing our church membership. We have talked about our failure to reach out to the “X” and “Z” generations within our families and neighborhoods.  I dare to say that we need to concentrate on setting the right example and be prepared to exhibit the correct walk and talk everywhere we go. God will draw them, who ever “them” may be. We must be ready and able to be his voice when that time comes. There is no BIG “I” save GOD HIMSELF.

Our quest must be to be ready to be used by GOD as one of the many HE has already chosen or will choose. Can you say to GOD and man; sincerely, without challenge:

“I AM”: “Ready” or “A Man of Grace” or “A Man of Faith or “A man with Purpose” or

“I AM EMPOWERED BY GOD”

And can I do it with a humble and yielded spirit?

Posted in Poetry

Love Someone

•November 11, 2018 • Leave a Comment

How Strange it is to think I know the will of God for my life
How strange it is, to think that I can know someone that I talk at but seldom listen to. How strange it is to want someone to Love me even when I’m not sure what that love should look like.
So often we say, “I gotta take a chance”! With something as important as Love? No, that Love I guard as not my own! But it is to me worth more than but to whom else?
How strange it is for someone that did not Love me enough to be placed in a position that forces me to Love them more: For Love must be realized or someone will never know the Love they never gave; until they can receive it. To think, that I was created to Love as I had hoped to be Loved And left, so I thought, to learn that I too was Loved but not as I had perceived Love, thus I did not appreciate that I had all along.
So, I conclude; That Love is given that we may know what Love truly looks like. But what of the person that gave such Love? Should I return that Love as given? As if it were a favor owed? Would that make Love

A DEBUT TO BE REPAID?
Sam373@wordpress.com

Posted in Poetry

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