She had crashed and burned, but somehow she didn’t die.

For a while she could only just sit there, and wonder why?

One day she had an epiphany, though, about that man.

He was like an ostrich with his head buried in quicksand.

So immersed he was in the days of his past

He couldn’t see that quicksand foundations just don’t last.

For her, she was born to soar above and yes, to fly!

She didn’t just want to hover, she wanted to fly high.

Would she, rising from the ashes of what was once love

Stay in that empty nest, or would she rise up above?

Would she be like that azure feathered blue bird,

And sing aloud the sweetest songs ever to be heard?

Would she be more like the little hummingbird

Whose faith knows impossible is nothing but a word?

Or would she be like the noblest bird, a majestic eagle,

Whose attributes can only be best described as simply regal?

No, she’d be no ostrich, bluebird, eagle or hummer,

For she longed to march to the beat of another drummer.

Her survival had left her with feathers like a peacock,

Beauty from the ashes, and strength as hard as a rock.

As she took flight, she saw him struggling, way down below,

And down, down, farther into the quicksand did he go.

He could not escape, though he had definitely tried 

But she had to leave behind the buckets of tears she’d cried.

It was a gorgeous day, favoring a new adventure,

And no more would she be tied to his tragic indenture.

The warm Winds of Change began to blow in her direction,

And with it they carried a change of her affection.

In the best epiphany she had ever received

She recognized that her heart was now relieved. 

She was free to do and be and see and become anything

All she was leaving behind a bittersweet memory thing.

Up, up, up, she climbed, higher and higher still

And glanced back once as she reached the crest of the hill.

What was that she saw sinking in QUICKSAND?

Was it an ostrich or someone who didn’t understand? 

Sighing, she shook her head in one last poignant goodbye,

And with that, the indomitable Phoenix really began to fly!

– Lou Lehman Sams




Too shy, too bold
Too young, too old
Too hot, too cold.

Too weak, too strong
Too right, too wrong
Too short, too long.

Too happy, too sad
Too good, too bad,
Too joyful, too mad.

Too lovely, too plain
Too real, too feign
Too crazy, too sane.

Too little for anyone,
Too much for someone ,
Just right for the one.

– Lou Lehman Sams


Over fifty but five years old

Yet a scared little boy

On a quest for perfection

Normalcy is just an illusion

A foregone conclusion

Waiting on execution

Looking for another new toy

So timid, and yet so bold.
Truth held hostage by lies

Memories fade in and out 

Not strong enough to fight 

Not big enough to escape

He endures a hideous rape

Terrors in the dark of night

Afraid of what it is all about

A demon with familiar eyes.
It is nothing more than vanity

The primal need to conquer 

Innocence stolen too soon

Absolutely nowhere to run

He should be out having fun

Incest beneath the full moon

Stale words begin to slur

Seed breeding more insanity.
Hold on little boy, while you can

His armor opens yet another crack

Be still, quiet, and just submit

No one will ever really believe 

The punishments he did receive

Sketches he can never forget

Odd moments hail a flashback

Five years old, and a strange old man.

– Lou Lehman Sams

Disclaimer: No, I am not an incest survivor, & this fictional work is not intended to represent any one individual, whether living or dead. 


Pass the tissues,

They’ve got issues, 

But their issues are not mine

Tired of walking that fine line

Between compassion

And consumption.

Sometimes all there is to do

Is take my hands off of you

And slowly walk away

The only day is today.

Promises of a a dream

Remain to be unseen

But I will reclaim,

Today in Jesus’ name!

So take your issues

Along with those tissues

And stage left do leave –

No more to you I cleave.

Yes, I wish you well, 

Though you’re in a living hell,

It’s too hot there for me.

No more of me you’ll see.

You can keep the tissues,

Along with your issues.

I don’t need either any more.

– Lou Lehman Sams


A Friend Above All Others

When friends are nearby, yet nowhere to be found,

Your heart cries out, yet no one seems to hear the sound …

Your soul feels restless on its constant quest for peace, 

And all you really want is some form of sweet release …

Rest assured that someone hears your every single word

And you can hear His voice in the singing of the bird,

Or feel His touch as the breeze kisses your face …

Just close your eyes, & imagine His embrace

For He is the One you will always be able to find

And if you call upon Him often, He will not mind …

For you are a special treasure, & you deserve love

When you are all alone, just take a look up above.

– Lou Lehman Sams


More old stuff – a Fairy Tale from days long ago gone by …



He was the Dream-Slayer,

And she wanted to hate him

Because he is the one who had seen the tiny cracks,

The fissures in her soul,

And who had driven a sharp wedge deep into them

Until the cracks widened leaving

Her shattered soul broken into a million

Little pieces, each one holding a broken Dream.

He was the Dream-Slayer,

Yet she could not bring herself to hate him,

For she knew that she was ultimately responsible

As she had been the one who opened the door

To her heart & beckoned him inside

And she is the one that showed him each

One of her vulnerabilities so that 

He knew just where to stick the knives.

He was the Dream-Slayer,

And though she had been warned about 

Letting men like him see inside 

Her carefully crafted & sturdily 

Constructed Tower of Independence,

It only took One Look from his piercing eyes

And she knew that there was no turning back

From his advances, nor did she want to do so.

He was the Dream-Slayer,

The one with no regard for anyone’s needs

Other than his own dark & desperate desires

And though she clearly saw the darkness

Spilling forth from beneath the mask he wore,

She was helpless against it as it ever so slowly

Began to seep from his core & lap at her fortress

Like murky waters swirling beneath her feet.

He was the Dream-Slayer,

Yet he made one fatal mistake in that

He did not recognize the Power of the Light

That was so intense that it ultimately held him at bay

With the warmth of a Love he could not comprehend

In his frenzied state of insobriety where he

Wanted nothing more than to satiate himself

In over-indulgences of depravity.

He was the Dream-Slayer,

But she belonged to the Light-Maker, 

The One who gently & softly retrieved all 

Of the fragile pieces that were the remnants

Of what was once her heart

And ever so gently yet expertly

He bonded them back together in such a way

That they became a brilliant kaleidoscope.

He was the Dream-Slayer,

But she was the Damsel Fair.

For though he had plundered her very Soul,

In so doing he had in reality freed her 

From her Tower of Imprisonment

And now she possesses a deeper beauty

That mirrors the best & the brightest

And which chases the Dragon back to his lair.

He is the Dream-Slayer,

But she is the Damsel Fair.



Angst of Earlier Days

Like a stubborn stain on a silken carpet
Despite attempts by the toughest cleaners
The Angst of Earlier Days keeps bleeding,
Bleeding through, making a mockery of me,
And it also makes a mockery of you, too.
Oh, to be forever rid of the Angst of Earlier Days,
But it just keeps bleeding through, & bleeding through …

– Lou Lehman Sams