Two Poems by Samantha Seto

Half-Empty

Emptied his mind so the heart feels

light, lifted into the bright sky
to praise the worlds of letting-go.

The cherry wood near rosebuds.

Untimely flowers leave
blood-drops on the snow.

Recipe blue note in his pocket:

HUMMINGBIRD CAKE
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups white sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups canola oil
3 eggs
1 crushed pineapple, drained
2 cups mashed bananas
1 cup chopped nuts
1 package cream cheese, softened
1/4 pound butter
1 lb sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

It was the last thing he remembered.

Left the house shattered,

broken windows in living room,
black streaks mark the beaten floor.

Fierce explosions of vacancy remain.

Ways to Mind

If our collective CPR stopped, medicine lost charge,

our last breath would synchronize into one.

Despite every passing second, alive

for all who breathed us in, we are a pair of doves.

1. Into the Mind

My coat hung low on my body,

I held out my hand so that we could
cross the treacherous bridge together,
I wouldn't go alone.

We were prisoners to the trees.

Childhood memories shattering the grounds,
rocks of flowing river below my barefeet.

2. Past Movement

Above a small stiff sheet of white bedroom.

In painting impracticalities coming nearer out of time.

3. End to Me

Cracked, underneath two long bleached handles

and some melancholy stains, like dried blood,
where the clothwork has worn away.


Samantha Seto is a writer. She has been published in various anthologies including Ceremony, The Screech Owl, Nostrovia Poetry, Soul Fountain, and Black Magnolias Journal.