Flashes of Emotion is a book of romantic poetry, a selection that allows the reader to tap into the poet’s insights into a wide variety of topics from life and love to death and drudgery – a collection that showcases Augustine Sam’s lively, refreshing and innovative style. A ‘must have’ for anyone who has ever experienced love, pain, defeat, or joy.
Targeted Age Group:: All
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
Poetry is inspired by experiences from everyday life, from images, from emotions, and from people, especially people whose lives impact our existence. Poetry can also be inspired by powers of observation. In writing “Flashes of Emotion,” I was inspired by all of the above. You will find fresh imagery, sad verses, relationships galore, social commentary, and complex love poems. Above all, you will find my voice.
For,
The coward yearns to live so he may not be forgotten
The brave yearns to die so he may live forever.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
“Nonfiction”
Book Sample
1) ANGUISH & PASSION
Last night I saw
An image of compulsive obsession
A marvel of life’s disarming weaponry
So haunting, so credible, so utterly terrifying
I saw fire in her eyes,
Speaking volumes without a voice
From the warped precincts of my hermitage, I strained to hear
She said, Reach – just reach.
Out of the rank luxuriance of a liberated passion,
I thought jagged ironies –
Me, a lifetime away from virility,
Could this be love I am feeling?
About this questionable reality, I will make no fuss
But about misplaced passions and seductions, I shall speak
And the woes of my amputated member, I shall tell
But who can understand
The anguish
Of an amputated mind?
2) THE WINE WRITER
He was a wine writer, primed and gray
Coherence was his personal value esteemed
Still …
Blurred visions and melancholic spells for him
Were no legacies only for the inebriated reserved
For lucid appraisals, like wine drinking itself,
Has been a totem as well as a cross
Years spent at grape harvests still abide with him
Dreams of vineyards and wineries he could not discard
Grape growers and winemakers he knew by name
He was a wine writer, primed and gray
Perching on a skyscraper window smeared with muck
In his heart was his last debate
The quandary was not about his work
Not about the wine for which he’d vote
Between
The sauvignon blanc he drank the night before
And the pinot noir that graced his page
His choice was all but made
Hence, not even merlot was on his mind today
About cabernet and chardonnay he’d already had his say
This quandary
Was about life and death
His mind was like a spin-drier gone amok
For
His wife will have a child in June
And the child was not his own
He saw his fate as a karmic rage
Ghosts in vintry cellars out to settle their scores
For the child
Belonged to a vintner whose wine, long ago,
He’d described as an inelegant brew on his page
Jump!
Was the only voice in his head today
In his eyes, visions swarmed
Like grape seeds in a harvest field
Visions of fat karmas
On a mucky skyscraper window
Waiting
Patiently
For the wine writer
To
Take
His plunge.
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