Scott A. Kass
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arahncur.bsky.social
Scott A. Kass
@arahncur.bsky.social
2K followers 3.1K following 380 posts
Long-time poet. #poet #writer
Please consider checking out my first poetry book on my author website: http://www.scottandrewkass.com
Support me: https://ko-fi.com/arahncur
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arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poemoftheday #poetrysky
I drop my pen, at least, for now, I lose my grip, unfurl my brow, For constancy of heart-blood writ Lays pestilence upon my wit, And terror's shackles on my arm; Such ink I shape may not stay warm, Whose well provides within my chest; When siphoned at my needs' behest, Whose powers I strain to meet the call For more its music yet to scrawl; To force upon it in some haste Confounds of wonder into waste, And spirals into ruin cold That splendor witnessed I of old; When, sat alone upon a bench, With nought of labor, but to wrench My spirit of its nagging woes, To give in my my formless foes, I spread, in yet-unhindered waves, Their eulogies to carve their graves; What ease I laid upon my heart With freedom's practice on my art! Gone, fled with promise that, in time, And ceaseless industry of rhyme, I may some solace win of war, This march of inches more, and more; I cannot lift or clear discern My weapon – but for peace I yearn, Its passing innocence and rest, Its proof of worth without a test, As I had known; with low this line, I leave your numb demand for mine.
November 24, 2025 at 8:39 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poemoftheday #poetrysky
I rap upon the stern face of the wall, That builds of lyric lines and highest praise That one may, through the ancient wood and hall, Bestow upon the Muse; in elder days, The scholar would emerge from ivy arch That made the castle, wherein scripted song Established law, and headed Man's proud march, And he, in passion, followed it along; I flail against the ramparts in a craze, As though, if those within may hear, descend, In pity for the self-inflicted haze That shakes my quill in frenzy as to bend; Alas, attend they not, but yet in rage, Beseech I some of guidance for the page.
November 23, 2025 at 9:20 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poemoftheday #poetrysky
We brace, for the uprise of our unrest Approaches, with the heaving of its breast; An audience for our encroaching guest, Our wonder fixes in unspoke arrest As laps it 'gainst the frame, and gluts its fill Of household ornaments no longer still; Like sightless wanderers, we feel the hill Swell with our steps, but none of Nature's will Perceive, and steeping past our slight control, It throws us from a pleasant-weathered stroll Unto a clamour; chaos to console What thrashing young possesses from our role Of stalwart guardian, no mark nor sign To measure, lest when they with it combine.
November 22, 2025 at 7:56 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poetrycommunity #poetrysky
What more respect may we display To spirits of the ancient wild, Than wave of hand to so portray Its majesty yet undefiled? Would barbarous the ancient grip, Upon the axe or sharpened saw, Transplant the scene, its essence rip, And undermine its verdant law. Here, in this chamber wrought of wood, Reminders of its splendour stay, While music, as its playing should, Resounds throughout the living lea. Tell not the paint that makes its heart Resides its frame among the dead; Tell not it is but portioned art So might its muse live on instead.
November 21, 2025 at 5:36 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poemoftheday
Behold, as leaves upon the wind The Autumn's freedom celebrate; No more of duties to remind, Nor living burdens delegate, But, as the tousled hair of Spring By Winter's hand in nearing reach, A show of merry play they bring On currents' wave beyond the beach; How free of care they tumble through The inland fields and float o'er hills, And gust along the avenue At currents' fae and spritely wills; Enjoy this recess! Light and dead, You mustn't push to ripe nor grow; Your tether has at last been shed; Waste not a moment still, in woe For daring to indulge in rest; The seasons promise to return And take you back within their breast; Be now in peace your life did earn. Hear, Wind! Uplift the wearied heart These worn of body share, console That they indeed have done their part, And now but respite fills their role.
November 16, 2025 at 8:13 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry
How might the Muse recline upon her cloud And spectate as her leashèd poet wails, Amused in nagging silence, almost proud For how her stark neglect his heart assails, As if a lover, so in beauty steeped, Her man would wear the vestiges of war, Through battle-fog and friendship's bodies heaped Endeavor but her grace to worship more, Extending not her hand nor cordial ear For comfort, some relief amid his toil, But watches, half-obscured her sickly sneer, While he and all his love return to soil; To her, a show to stifle the advance Of boredom, and his throes, a comic dance.
November 12, 2025 at 4:37 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #review

Here's another review posted of my book of traditional poetry, 'The First Scar.' I appreciate any and all who read and review my work!
November 12, 2025 at 2:13 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poetrysky #poemoftheday
On rising, I, with labored strain, Outstretch my arms until they stop; I know they cannot further go When feel I dull the pain, And I their burdens drop; By this must I their limits know. My legs, from seeming out their place, Extend too far and, pulling, burn, And, threating dislocation's crack, Return I them to brace; This breaking point I learn, Relaxing them to rest and back. The mind, which governs body whole, And holds dominion absolute Above the fleshly universe, Maintains a private role, Preserving systems, mute, Removed from joints' unknowing curse. When opening my eyes to day, It thinks of how refreshed am I, The feeling after thankful rest, And somehow, elbows stray, And knees snap as I lie At not a willing brain's behest. As idle as a careless dreg Reclining on a corner curb, It perches past the work of bone Abrading femur's peg; No effort to disturb Displays it, keeping to its own. At but the time when harm is felt, The mental faculties alert, Of damage done appraising me; So only when is dealt Some injury, I hurt, Before some pitied hint I see.
November 7, 2025 at 5:55 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poetrysky #poemoftheday
The morning Sun doth peek with timid rays That for the thunder hid, and now behold A shallow puddle, that in younger days Would visit after harshest storms of old, And lay as clear as new the bright'ning sky -- A mirror for Apollo, not in vain, To see himself and his own brilliance by -- When dawn had nought to fear of evening's rain; This crystal pool now keeps the heavy cloud That poured it, and obscures that godly face, That once, could peer within and see him proud Who peered back, for they shared in form and space, But passes o'er, a worthy glass to find That may reflect his radiance in kind.
November 4, 2025 at 1:34 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry
It is a balm upon the wearied soul, To raise the builder with such lofty love As to imagine that their tireless goal May not alone by promised pay be drove, But mortar, glowing with the potent store Of private wisdoms public-made, and wrought In ceaseless toil to build a house of lore, Would bend their backs; alas! What may be bought Has conquered vision, with an atmosphere Contrived of shops, whose pleading signage screams At passersby, 'Turn out your pockets here,' And slaughters, in an instant, nobler dreams Of Alexandria, whose laden shelves Bestowed her scholars truth beyond themselves.
October 31, 2025 at 4:29 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry
They must have seen reflections of the world; A map of somewhere more of grace pristine, Where palace spires toward their own below Would reach, as if in greeting congruence; Of painted rivers, blurred by sandy banks That show on the designs of mariners, For climes encountered, wishing ne'er to leave; From which did mountains' gusting slopes arch high To fit within their kin we seek to scale, Each fleck of rock yet mirrored – God, you knew! Through such precise conception of your art That we call Earth and Heaven, eyes of old Surveyed that realm, and wept for sailing clouds, Like ships into your harbor 'pon the Sky; Of clear a course, their heart had found some link, Like rain from oceans opposite our own May pour so thick to build a waterfall.
October 28, 2025 at 1:21 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry
The warrior-poet first must weather war: Though bandages may staunch his measured blood, Some other spills from wounds within his core; The vein could not release a rival flood To this – which mundane wrappings cannot halt – For such outpours of echoes, as in streams By ghosts of combat haunted; none of salt The priest may strew its cursèd bank redeems; Despite returning from the battlefield, Beyond the reach its fleshly blows, remain Those unseen tatters; fester they, unhealed, And smolder past the corporal domain, Until, at last, from out its camouflage, It bursts in clotted ink upon the page.
October 26, 2025 at 12:29 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry

"Rooms of Light" Pt. IV. This ends the poem. Thank you for reading.
So, enter where such gifts remain, For we the likeness yet contain What bore the world in emerald bowers, Garnet-hewn the blazoned range, And sapphire pools, whose ancient powers Our own assail; as forces strange, Who plant the newly-woven banner Of our noble kingdom's pride, In such a wise and knowing manner, Plundering by matricide; We, princes, stand upon her tomb, O'er Mother cold and naked lain, And still we seek to more exhume To fill our private fane; To what has passed, A testament amassed, So might we feel the haunting brush Of breezes, through the pillar'd copse, Or smell on it what juices lush We drank in bounteous drops, Apart from ruin sure, That Spring seeks to obscure: We know it shall approach, but not Its vehicle, its brand of rot, Or when inevitable days May find the prairie barren lays, When choke the winds in silt O'er tracks made puddles spilt Of newborn life down spritely-legged hoof; Step in, and see our caution's care, That hoard we to prepare, our proof; Behold the common Earth as rare Beneath our sanctum's roof.
October 24, 2025 at 8:24 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry

"Rooms of Light" Pt. III
Yes, here and there, the secret grove Yet thrives in blossoms with the rain, And mountains guard the last alcove From seasons' weathering campaign; If travels deep and distant bring Thy restless eye through wilderness, The stools that build a faerie-ring Should offer rest and comfort, yes; But, even these to passing myth Shall fade by doom herewith; We Men, by will and trade, Our plans for conquest made, Aligning in a new design How might, upon the meadow's face, The very morning shine, And why the pond may stew in place, Or swell to host a thousand silver fins; Our work against the biding Earth Contests its providence, and wins – More harvest we to shape our worth Will never be enough! To dig and chop and reap her treasure, To smooth it for our passing pleasure, From the defiled rough: This keeps our joy high-steeped and drunk, Our bellies fat and heavy-sunk, While shelter we from tamperings our own That shall, across entwined all Nature, Spread in wanton legislature Dictate we from on our stolen throne.
October 22, 2025 at 7:42 PM
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#poetry

"Rooms of Light" Pt. II
But, step inside this shielded realm; We built it up from Nature's own; We tamed it of the wilder elm, And molded it of stone; For even order of her being Wracks upon we feeble things, As flail, in frantic fleeing What common rains, the sparrow's wings; This house holds out that mad reception: Glasses clink in storms, The guests cavort in rav'nous swarms – Their jollity, a grave deception; Though, with buds aspread, Awakened in their bed Of deep their pillowed soil beneath the dawn, And, prancing out from verdant wood, The shy regard of pure the spotted fawn Paints all our dreams of Nature good, There come inevitable days That find the prairie barren lays, When choke the winds in silt O'er tracks made puddles spilt Of newborn life down spritely-legged hoof: Be this not ample proof, Such majesty be a wistful fairytale? The bride of Autumn wears her veil, So might he, once again, Embrace her beauty fain, Until, before their wedlock sealed, Beholds he for her truth revealed, And, sickened by that stubborn lie, He woeful deigns for all of life to die.
October 20, 2025 at 3:23 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry

Part I of something I'm currently writing called "Rooms of Light."
Step in, from waving of the trees; Each leaf, a face, whose cheeks doth blush At Autumn's yearly pleasantries, And shyly stammer in a hush, Beneath an audience Of clouds in radiance, Alit by watching Sun, at peace, Assured her daughter Spring has found Her fate-betrothed, and grants release Their wedding wreaths upon the ground; How all of twilight swoons, In joy and airy tunes, To once again behold the pair, And in their union merry share; When shadow steals the combing field Of color, and the rosy bark, Like beacons, all of life revealed, Stand phantom obelisks in dark, This, still, is Nature's mood – Her fancied multitude – By which her children know their place: Within the bosom of her grace.
October 18, 2025 at 8:03 PM
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#poetry #poem #poetrylovers #poetrycommunity #poetrySky #blueskypoets #PoetryOfTheDay #traditionalpoetry
To burning Hell with it! That hand Which claws my heart in such demand, That pierces so to spurt and spill Its lifeblood, and to drain my will! One mortal, weakest of our throng Of beings filling tale and song, Can not its tyrant grasping bear, Nor keep him held to stubborn care. I pose no courage, shine no light, Nor think by no Divine insight; If heroes play their trophied roles, Praise Gods who charmed their mundane souls. No deities observe from high; I toil beneath no blessing eye; Magicians who are shy to show May not my worship seek to know. Leave off your meddling from my page; By earthly sights or more of age, Endeavors of my hand alone Be great or low, but be my own.
October 16, 2025 at 10:10 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poem #poetrylovers #poetrycommunity #poetrySky #blueskypoets #PoetryOfTheDay #traditionalpoetry #sonnet #KofiCreativeVoice
I could within my sterile chamber sit, Through leaves from ancient laurel-crowns combined Rummage, for seeming-golden powers writ, In hope that one before me may remind Of bright Apollo's blessing they defined; Would that but study, deep in quarantine From fetid growth of breathing chaos-kind We honor with the title, 'Life,' may glean His Gift and keep my boots and conscience clean; Spare dull my dreams from horrors I might find Beyond these walls, and send unto my mind The practice and material to build, As those whose labors lay in tomes enshrined, And prove the Sun had seen their roles fulfilled.
October 15, 2025 at 12:42 AM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poem #poetrylovers #poetrycommunity #poetrySky #blueskypoets #PoetryOfTheDay #traditionalpoetry
Marching to the death-drums' beat, Boot-heels pat the slather sodden E'er by they and ever trodden, Packing thick the gore-paved street. Rotted have what colors telling, Hints from whom and whence they lay, Bittered by the stubborn day Whose sun heeds not ordainèd felling. Shadows bar a sky decayed, Woven o'er with tendrils grasping, Tum'rous storms by greedy clasping Kept from thund'ring, tears forbade. Grass beneath cemented slurry Curls and writhes, its green yet glowing, Static 'neath the wet crust flowing, Tyrant-tombed to wait and worry. Tramping on, its boot-heels sound, No stone to catch and throw it back, But soggy prints to sink the track And wallow in the stagnant ground. Ageless rattles coat of metal, Clinking loud but lost as quickly, Blank diffused o'er tundra sickly, Never pausing once to settle. Endless following its tour, Not a griever nor a tender, Not the guilty nor defender, But a watcher evermore. Built of gloried, hallowed best, All congealed and made to mingle, Robbed of vessels whole and single, Here your fallen heroes rest.
October 13, 2025 at 4:45 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poem #poetrylovers #poetrycommunity #poetrySky #blueskypoets #PoetryOfTheDay #traditionalpoetry

This is one I wrote around 2009. Please enjoy!
As a precious, priceless gift they name The agent of their sense, A significant reward they claim Their vessel of experience, To defend and keep with utmost care And fear of some beyond, A unique connection they declare Can with creation's secrets bond, An important blessing given us By some uncertain source, And from substance it has given thus May follow we a wholesome course, Our own conduit of cognizance Through which we may explore, To bear providence for sustenance And live in joy forevermore, But I bid you, take a moment's time To rationale regard, And consider in this simple rhyme How this philosophy seems scarred By a jagged, obvious mistake, A fault of mortal eyes, A contrived excuse for comfort's sake Proposed to somber truth disguise; In a body of such flimsy form So easily destroyed, How may find one strength to weather storm Of life and dangers harsh employed? If so great is this we know and feel, So worthy of respect, Then how death may effortlessly steal It from us dares my intellect; By the hand of Nature, God or Man In multitude of ways May we be dispatched much sooner than Belief of life's avail conveys; If so utterly in faintest plight Amount our lives to naught, Then perhaps they do not matter quite As much as we may once had thought.
October 11, 2025 at 3:50 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poem #poetrylovers #poetrycommunity #poetrySky #blueskypoets #PoetryOfTheDay #traditionalpoetry #sonnet
The figure, gleaming in the wav'ring Sun Whose ghostly tendrils frozen flesh caress, Surveys the ground whereon they wrote he won, With heel and talon scraped in muddy mess, Upon a page of some historic tome; A quill from even bravest of a flock Had never flown to such a hero's home, Yet had his realm's wide shore welcomed to dock A boat dispatched from one phantastic dream Captained by eager hand that held the plume -- If I but witnessed sole a blessèd beam Reach down to raise the smallest bulb to bloom From out the soil such champions would stride, I would my pen abandon as it died.
October 9, 2025 at 12:53 PM
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#poetry #poem #poetrylovers #poetrycommunity #poetrySky #blueskypoets #PoetryOfTheDay #traditionalpoetry #sonnet
How foreign, that the soul by which I breathe, And have since, like the closing of a flower, To shield the bud, my flesh had made its sheath, Rejects its purpose; so Divine a power, Shriveled to waste, as if in refuse strewn, It shivered at the passing traffic's chill, At ends of alleys, deepened 'neath the Moon, Whose shadows sharpen by an artless will; Preside I 'ere the cheering audience Of layered gardens dressed in Spring's last bloom, Who she adorns in bridal radiance To welcome Autumn as her patient groom, Await they my recital of a prayer That warps in fog that hangs and holds them there.
October 6, 2025 at 7:16 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poem #poetrylovers #poetrycommunity #poetrySky #blueskypoets #PoetryOfTheDay #traditionalpoetry

I like to post regularly, but I will be away for a few days to visit family. Until then, be well, and please consider checking out my author website: www.scottandrewkass.com
The charted week, by Roman hand, Wraps 'round the working throat, with days Like fingers, curled in cold command, And into lab'ring waters weighs. We dare not protest, bowed and scarred, Its tireless muscle wrought of time -- By Man, beweaponed to regard Our will as but rebellious crime. Though, he who trained this henchman learned Enough to mutiny foretell; The slave who has some respite earned Abides for Sun beyond his cell. And so, undoes that grip of five, Allowing for the slightest gasp, Reminding us we are alive, 'Ere tightening its fated grasp. In promise of that brief reprieve, We seal our breath and dream of air That may the willing meek receive, Or pass o'er those drowned in despair.
October 2, 2025 at 5:17 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poem #poetrylovers #poetrycommunity #poetrySky #blueskypoets #PoetryOfTheDay #traditionalpoetry #sonnet
As if a scion of the hulking beast That guards the gates of Hades, does it shout; With tenfold heads, contempt at once released, Aware I cannot shut their voices out, But, as if married with the siren's song, They draw my timid, simply-seduced ear; Against my spirit, leading it along, Until a moment swells into a year; To grasp the pages writ by tutors old My hands crave; study in those texts divine Would grant me peace in practice, but they fold, Content, in idle stupor, to combine, And lifeless lay, deceived of scholar's blood That drowned those wanton daemons in its flood.
September 30, 2025 at 5:33 PM
arahncur.bsky.social
#poetry #poem #poetrylovers #poetrycommunity #poetrySky #blueskypoets #PoetryOfTheDay #traditionalpoetry
On either side a line of trees Tall-grown to see beyond, there lay Twin pools of congruent degrees; In width and color, mirror they. Old rains their substance each had poured, When first had root as newborn sprawled, In thirst, and for the unexplored, By some unvoiced ambition called. O'er thousands an unmeasured year, In standing sleep, within a dream, Regretted they be waters clear, Set lonely from the creek and stream. Devised they both to brew their stock Into some company, a friend; They churned within their banks of rock Toward this eager, stubborn end. For long and long, their ripples washed, Directionless, but for their goal; Through eons in distemper, thrashed Their shared and disillusioned soul. Beneath a sky by storm-clouds vast Invaded, like some warring fleet, At once, a lightning-bolt had cast As if from raging Zeus' high seat. It forking struck, and bore in each The fin and scale, their gentle dance On currents' wave it deigned to teach, Beneath the curious watch of plants. The waters revelled night to day, Renewed from isolation's hex, By newfound childrens' merry play, Their vernal antics multiplex. One afternoon, as in repose, While listening to splashing young, A pool heard even louder throes That from the tree-line heavy sprung. 'The bodies that had thrown the sprays That dashed upon those leaves! What size, And what joy may another raise! How broad of depth its bottom lies!' At this, it looked upon in woe Its children, busy in their mirth, And ceased serene its ripples' flow That drained along the darkened earth. Its banks, by not some heat intense, Nor siphoning of essence, soon, Those waters drifted softly thence, Toward the gradient void of noon. Therein, that once in aimless sport Had swam and splashed, turned widened eyes, And watched as seemed to bright contort The Sun in ever-closer skies. Before the drape of dusk had thrown, They laid upon the puddled floor, Silent, and still, and all alone, As if the tide had scorned the shore. Where had their doting guardian gone, Who once belovèd children grew? To what had its attention drawn, What finer business to pursue? Near, now a grave, that vacant hole, Its twin remained in calm content, As all within that made its soul With fretless kin for-ever spent.
September 28, 2025 at 2:29 PM