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Literature
Celebratory Solstice
Quiet nights
Summer flights
And the moon alone looks down.
Watching out
With a silent pout
And the moon alone looks down.
Half the ocean
Covered in white
As the moon alone looks down;
And Pleiades bright
Till morning’s end
And the moon alone looks down.
Solstice time leads
to dreams of dust
And the blazing moon shines down
To those of us
With open eyes…
And the moon’s sweet glory burns.
:iconSampsonHemp:SampsonHemp
:iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 1 1
Literature
Tales of the Aspiring Artist
Canvas and Paper are by far the most horrific things in the world.
Consider their relation to their content.
A block of stone potentially contains anything the artist can release.
To carve a dog, simply carve away anything that doesn’t look like a dog.
Wood works the same way.
But Canvas and Paper taunt the author.
Blank, white emptiness. White holds all of the colors of the rainbow; why can painters not simply paint away the excess colors, wipe the oils off of the canvas to reveal the masterpiece below?
Scarce, dry sheets. Paper glares with its blinding nothing, daring the author to fill it.
Can you do it?
Not I.
Far too dangerous.
For even if the onerous task should be completed,
The words may get you in even worse trouble than when you started.
Far better never to begin at all.
Or is it?
Now, we both know the answer to that.
:iconSampsonHemp:SampsonHemp
:iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 1 0
Literature
The Doom as Foretold By The Meme
Not as funny as it seems on first sight.
The most frightening prospect in the world.
Horror incarnate, Hell on Earth.
Can you imagine? Even begin to imagine?
Imagine sitting on your couch, watching life go by
Knowing that outside your fogged-up window
People are meeting
Touching
Kissing
Lovers are laughing
Bonding
Glowing
Knowing each other better than words
Imagine the sheer pain of realizing that your place in the cosmos
Is destined to be the agony of the misunderstood, the outcast,
Abandoned by all who were meant to care.
Man was not meant to be alone;
That is why God invented love.
To be alone
Without someone to love or to reciprocate
Is
The worst punishment
Imaginable.
Starving for the merest contact with another being,
For the glimmer in someone’s eye that accepts you:
Not for what you are,
But what you can be.
Love is faithful
Love is blind
Love is
Togetherness.
Truly
Do Not Be
Forever Alone.
:iconSampsonHemp:SampsonHemp
:iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 1 0
Literature
Some Collected Thoughts
Fantastic, beautiful shadows
Star-lit, awe-inspiring
Come to take your breath away.
Don't let them in
They make rather poor guests
The rules of hospitality matter, but not here.
The unfathomable beaches
Hard as diamonds, brittle as cast-iron
Strike it just the right way, and it shatters.
Spitting dark-eyes
Dream-swollen drinking
Moonbeams on a stem-like stalk.
Face your maker, little man
You're everything you could have been,
And all of your own accord.
Set the rafts away, harbormaster
The dreams will flow faster yet
More difficult to follow than ever before.
Slinky, silky mice and rats
Cream of the crops, all eaten away,
Bourgeois of the silo floor.
Five years too late
Close but no cigarillo
Better luck next rhyme.
:iconSampsonHemp:SampsonHemp
:iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 0 0
Literature
The Cynical Scientist's Simplified Version
Sparkle, sparkle, gigantic ball of flaming gas
How I wonder whether you are simply a pocket of nuclear fusion and fission pulled together into an enormous, gravitationally held ball of fire or if you are in fact a white hole (the opposite of a black hole), spewing cosmic energy into our universe from an entirely different one
Positioned as you are many millions of light-years above us in relation to our frame of reference, although in fact one can have no directions in space, which is theoretically gravity-free, at least on the planet scale
Similar to the color spectrum of a crushed, condensed mass of super-dense and nigh-unbreakable carbon which is commonly known as ‘diamond’, but is more accurately described by the term ‘metastable allotrope of carbon’
Sparkle, sparkle gigantic ball of flaming gas
I’m almost completely sure, within reasonable experimental error, that I know what you are.
:iconSampsonHemp:SampsonHemp
:iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 0 2
Literature
The Things I've Learned Since...
What poetry I used to make
Smiling at the wind and sun
Laughing with the moon.
Now my days are spent in boxes
Carrying burdens belonging to other people
I feel like a mailman.
They say that opportunities abound
But doesn’t that include opportunities for failure?
Tread carefully, my son.
Still, hardships are what make diamonds out of carbon
And two doors open with every one that closes.
So stick your foot in that door, lad
You won’t go far wrong.
Dreams have little significance
During the daytime
Keep your head down, your nose clean,
Don’t toe the line.
Chords that are in disharmony can sometimes mean the most.
Behind every line of poetry
Some idiot thought everything out very carefully
I suppose one should pay attention?
Nah.
Patience is the key
To future success…
Or so I’m told
I haven’t gotten there yet.
:iconSampsonHemp:SampsonHemp
:iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 1 1
Mature content
Crossed Interests, Part 2 :iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 0 2
Mature content
Crossed Interests, Part 1 :iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 0 10
Literature
Adventures With Norman! Part 2
Adventures With Norman! Part 2
For some reason, I’m not lynched for having wrote the last one, so I’ll give you a second one!
Here, have some more two-minute adventures with Norman!
I woke up to find Norman staring at me. That wouldn’t have been as much of a problem if he hadn’t also been about three inches away from my face.
“Gah!” I screamed, crabbing away backwards on my hands. “What the hell, dude!?”
He continued to stare. “I like to watch people sleep.”
“Not like that’s creepy or anything, but… but that’s really effing creepy, Norman!”
Steadily, a grin crept over his face. “Yeeeeess. Yes, it is.”
Realization struck, then. “And how did you get in my house? It’s locked and bolted!”
“You didn’t lock the chimney, Sampson.”
“That’s because this is the penthouse suite in an apartment bui
:iconSampsonHemp:SampsonHemp
:iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 0 13
Mature content
Adventures With Norman! Part 1 :iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 0 4
Literature
The Man Who Left Without Leave
There once was a sailor
He sailed the seven seas
He knew the difference
'tween a storm and a breeze!
A master of scrambling
'twixt stern and the sails
Not to mention his strength
(Dude was tough as nails!)
He'd fought in all weather
'gainst pirates and scum
Who'd rather steal from others
and get drunk on rum
than earn themselves wages
in an honest day's work
Our sailor, of course,
was himself: not a shirk!
He obeyed his captain
And sailed 'cross the seas
He worked as a servant
Pouring Captain's tea
And earned enough money
Which he set aside
Then one day he vanished
Simply gone with the tide
He jumped ship at Singapore
And left without leave
He crawled down the anchor
And crept onto shore
When Monday came around
He failed to show up for roll
The captain was furious
But the sea takes a toll
"I've no patience for drifters!
Damn, it's too late" he cried
And ordered his ship
To drift out with the tide
So our sailor remained there
On shore leave forever
Though he'd always be watching
In all
:iconSampsonHemp:SampsonHemp
:iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 1 7
Mature content
A Dialogue! :iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 0 0
Literature
Dangerous Secrets, Pt. 1
Dangerous Secrets, Pt. 1
As told from the perspective of a certain Daniel Becker, the newest member of the Exorcists
This narrative takes place a few days after Becker awoke after a long coma, after his recruitment, and during the tour of the current Exorcist headquarters.
Blot opened the door, and with a flourishing gesture, stated: “Our magnificent training room. We’ve set up illusions and traps for new kids like yourself, Becker, but they’re turned off for now.”
The training room was cavernous, easily the size of a warehouse. Broken glass and sheets of metal littered the floor alongside crates of every size. Garbage was everywhere as well. I couldn’t imagine how a badly torn couch or razor-sharp soup cans could be used in training.
Hemp followed grimly into the hall, peering around himself with a practiced ease. He nodded towards a small weapons rack off to the side.
“What’s all this? Guns? ‘S about time you trained the noobs i
:iconSampsonHemp:SampsonHemp
:iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 0 4
Mature content
Current Exorcist Roster :iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 0 15
Literature
Almost Like Clockwork
WE ARE
Ticking ticking ticking
Never stopping always clicking
With a rhythm never ceasing
Never stopping always pleasing
In the time time time
Serving out this dreadful crime
Turning clear around again
Under the ol' brass Baby Ben
In the clock never stop
Do not stop cannot stop
For the work must keep on going
Till the brassy gears are showing
And the plastic's worn away
But at the end of all the days
It will tick tick tick tick tick tick tick
It will tick tick tick tick tick tick tick
Then stop
You just touch the gear
The big one on top
And without a dying breath
Without a sound it simply
...Stops...
The clock is dead in the silence of dust
And the brass and plastic pieces
Never mourned never missed
Simply lost in the silence of the
Quiet afternoon
dependant on another
To wind up this old clock
And repair its mechanisms
Until finally we hear…
WE ARE back back back
running down the faithful track
in the rhythm and the time
of the technologic rhyme
Simply tick tick tick
Never tock t
:iconSampsonHemp:SampsonHemp
:iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 1 4
Mature content
Helpful Tips for Monster Mashing, courtesy of SH :iconsampsonhemp:SampsonHemp 0 0

Favourites

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Literature
boys who love their grandmothers
never fall in love with a boy who loves his grandmother.
he will be too gentle with your lips,
too sincere when he whispers blessings into your ears
pleading that he doesn't deserve you.
his tongue will not slither between your teeth.
instead, the heat of his mouth will melt your scar tissue
until there is no trace of your travels.
never fall in love with a boy who loves his grandmother.
he knows patience.
you will try to convince him
that it is one of the many virtues
you don't yet possess,
but he will dig through the flesh in your ribcage
until he finds it lodged beneath everything
you're too scared to confess.
he will teach you forgiveness, remind you that you are not a mistake.
he will wipe the trails of tears that always seem to decorate your cheeks
and replace them with rose petals, saying that he chose the color red
to match the passion he knows flows through your veins.
never fall in love with a boy who loves his grandmother.
he will trace the freckles on your skin
into constel
:iconlearningtobefree:learningtobefree
:iconlearningtobefree:learningtobefree 1,594 767
Space Wreck by Tatonkus Space Wreck :icontatonkus:Tatonkus 41 2 p-53 Diesel punk plane by Tatonkus p-53 Diesel punk plane :icontatonkus:Tatonkus 29 3 The Observatory by HjalmarWahlin The Observatory :iconhjalmarwahlin:HjalmarWahlin 8,941 510

Activity


8,054 unseen submissions.

I leave for a few months and this is what happens. Oy vey.


I hope to be writing much more than I have been previously and submitting later this summer. Thank you to anyone who has not forgotten I exist.

deviantID

SampsonHemp
THAT guy
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Many thanks to Albatrossed for the Sampson icon, and many more to Oxiemoron for the fabulous portrait above!

:onfire:

I'm a writer who enjoys looking for interesting photograph opportunities, though as I lack any sort of photoshop and my camera is meant to be a video camera, most of my pictures are not wonderful. I typically write either about Sampson's universe, which is constantly being clarified and expanded, or seemingly random poetry usually about nothing in particular. But that doesn't answer the question.

I'm a dude with many interests and hobbies, most of which are considered cool, but few of which are marketable. I greatly enjoy cats and small furry creatures (My cats like those too!) and camping in the semi-wilderness. Among my many skills are such things as an occasionally fantastic and varied vocabulary, a perfectly odd sense of humor, and a rather irritating moral sense of right and wrong (which I try not to follow too often). I enjoy philisophical quandries and logic puzzles, but not for too long or my attention span starts wandering. Thank ye kindly, Deviant-type people!
Interests

Journal History

Comments


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:iconsplooshedonawall:
Splooshedonawall Featured By Owner Jul 8, 2013
What's your Steam account username?
Reply
:iconmxteddybear:
MxTeddybear Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
im a day early, but happy birthday bro!!!!
Reply
:iconsampsonhemp:
SampsonHemp Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you very much! Sorry for the wait! I haven't been on here in a while. :D
Reply
:iconsuperhermit:
superhermit Featured By Owner Nov 25, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the llama
Reply
:iconsampsonhemp:
SampsonHemp Featured By Owner Nov 27, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Happy Birthday!
Reply
:iconsuperhermit:
superhermit Featured By Owner Nov 27, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks! Means a lot to me!
Reply
:iconsampsonhemp:
SampsonHemp Featured By Owner Nov 28, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Sure thing! :)
Reply
:iconzephod-b:
Zephod-B Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
*nomz on the yama badge shaped thing, while posting art* ^^
Reply
:iconsplooshedonawall:
Splooshedonawall Featured By Owner Sep 24, 2012
You're being a Susie. Stop it. :p I mean, she has a legitimate excuse....you know like college...
Reply
:iconsampsonhemp:
SampsonHemp Featured By Owner Sep 28, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
...
Bleh.
I does what I likes. If that means goofing off, so be it!
Reply
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