Sam Spinelli

Joined January 2022

353 stories

Bio

Trying to make real art the best I can, never Ai!

Help me write better! Critical feedback is welcome :)

reddit.com/u/tasteofhemlock

instagram.com/samspinelli29/

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Stories (353)

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Rafi's Avalanche
it's a disaster! snow thunders down the mountain. trees snap. crush! woooosh! boom! Author's note: Another haiku written mostly by my 8 year old son. I helped him even less with this one than I had with his volcano poem. And I legit feel like the two he wrote with my minor help were way better than all the ones I wrote solo :)
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
Rafi's Volcano
smoke from the crater the air is dense and it burns please do not fall in Author's note: My 8 year old son wrote this one, with some minor help from me. He came up with the theme of each line on his own, and I helped get the syllables right.
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
the falling snow
blizzard on the slopes! the climbers end their journey... 'neath the falling snow
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
Spring on the mountain
Spring on the mountain: cold rivers in the moonlight-- dancing silver streams!
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
The mount of the LORD
A child: bound and scared. Father of the year awards, for Abe and the LORD.
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
Bones of the Earth
Vertebrae of stone: Skeletons sit in silence, cold bones in the snow
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
Plow hills
A brand new mountain. Climbers gear up to attack! Joy rings from plow hills.
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
Loneliness vs solitude
Lonely on the slopes. Solitude at the summit…. Then I crawl back down
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
A view
we climbed for the view. for you the view was mountains. for us it was you My son and I
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
A hiker mourns
a hiker mourns deep the mountain nurses his wounds he does not wither
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
Beaten pines
bent but unbroken beaten pines embrace bare rock They say: don’t give up
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets
whisper
winds rise to the peak after the winds, a whisper: pine scent from the slopes
By Sam Spinelli3 years ago in Poets