Nirvana / Election Day

Triada Samaras Poem: The Speech

The Speech

I cannot say
which came first

my poem
or my political impulse

but I was supposed to make you
move your butt
that is all

I was supposed to make you
get up off your seat
and engage yourself
civically speaking

But no
you just sit there

Now my writer's block
is causing me
to doubt my democratic principles
or vice versa

because even if
all the good seats
were going to be taken
by all the fat cats
the men and women
in their greedy suits

And even if my poem
had no art
or my art no matter

The idea was to make you
move
like I can see you move
challenge
change
the way things are

But no
you just sit there

revealing the limitation
in my speech

So the art of democracy
is waning
and my poems
with it

For an art of change
must change
after all
or die

but tell me

did I stir you
when I read this poem?

Did you try to imagine
how many words
does it take
to change a thing?

Or what is the reason
for all the delay?

c. Triada Samaras 2009 (revised 2025)

Triada Samaras Poem: In the Kitchen

In the Kitchen

No hesitation in the way she did it
Splat!
with the silver spoon
she grabbed to crush his ugly body

Unexpected was the crunch
No seconds left
between her, the bug, the spoon
Splat!
no second chance, no mercy
for the nasty creature

No guilt or thought
no offense taken

He was a goner
shaking while she whacked him
with her metal spoon
Splat! Splat! Splat!
Dead again

No hesitation on his creepy insect shell
Crushed and flattened against the wall
Antennae and all

No smile but such focus
She slayed him with her hocus pocus!

Garbage in, garbage out
That was the way she did it

In the Kitchen

No hesitation
Splat!
Silver spoon
Crush his ugly body

Unexpected crunch
No seconds left
No mercy
Nasty creature

No guilt
No thought
He was a goner
Shaking
Splat! Splat! Splat!

No hesitation
Creepy insect shell
Crushed, flattened
Antennae and all

No smile
Such focus
She slayed him
Hocus pocus!

Garbage in, garbage out

That’s the way she did it

Triada Samaras Poem: 5 or 6 P's

5 or 6 P’s

Piss poor progress

Places a premium on

Puttering

Not perfection

On passion, perseverance,
and pedagogy
developed in lieu of
probable possibility

Parties with
and Pinot Grigio

And plays with Prozac

Promoting plump particles of pride

And pleasing the public

Puts power over paradox,
the public

And privilege over participation

Progress might placate

But perfection will polarize

The precarious prevalence
of primitive panaceas

c. Triada Samaras  2015

Triada Samaras Poem: Home

Home Is

Home is hearth
Home is window
Home is doors
Home is walls

Home is skin
Home is sin

Home is talk
Home is silence

Home is sanctuary
Home is prison

Home is spirit
Home is space

Home is secret
Home is caution
Home is red flag

Home is darkness
Home is light

Home is love
Home is safe
Home is not

Home is refrigerator
Home is enclosure

Home is endearing
Home is entrapment

Home is form
Home is shape

Home is light
Home is reflection
Home is deflection

Home is life
Home is dysfunction
Home is terror
Home is light

Home is cinnamon
Home is apples

Home is mold
Home is dust

Home is collected
Home is connected

Home is disarming
Home is alarming

Home is love
Home is war
Home is hope

Home is continent
Home is cake

Home is shouting
Home is money

Home is overrated
Home is underestimated

Home is total

Home is cigarettes
Home is the last puff
Home is the last word

Home is hearth Home is window Home is doors Home is walls Home is skin Home is sin Home is talk Home is silence Home is sanctuary Home is prison Home is spirit Home is space Home is secret Home is caution Home is red flag Home is darkness Home is light Home is love Home is safe Home is not Home is refrigerator Home is enclosure Home is endearing Home is entrapment Home is form Home is shape Home is reflection Home is deflection Home is life Home is dysfunction Home is terror Home is light Home is cinnamon Home is apples Home is mold Home is dust Home is collected Home is connected Home is disarming Home is alarming Home is love Home is war Home is hope Home is continent Home is cake Home is shouting Home is money Home is overrated Home is underestimated Home is total Home is cigarettes Home is the last puff Home is the last word.

Triada Samaras Poem: Light Land Looming

I'm gathering my poetry to document it all in one place. I'm finding poems I had forgotten I'd written from many years ago. I find myself so happy to be reading and rewriting them now.  This was written during a visit to the Rocky Mountains.

Light Land Looming
​
Land in limitless light
Looms level with heaven,
Rewards us with reason—
Sprawling and safe.

A mountain emerges,
Spoiling serenity.
Pointed lines draw our spellbound
Eyes uphill.

To a cold place where
The wind blows without logic,
Up and down the peak
In excessive screams.

We do not resist,
But are lifted willingly
Toward the summit—
And our nightmares.
​
Hypnotized, we grasp the
Needing automatically,
Perceiving the peril
As our own.

c. 2009 Triada Samaras (revised 2025)