poems of Scott Thomas Outlar
poems of Scott Thomas Outlar


Scott Thomas Outlar lives and writes in the suburbs outside of Atlanta, Georgia. His work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. He guest-edited the Hope Anthology of Poetry from CultureCult Press as well as the 2019, 2020, and 2021 Western Voices editions of Setu Mag. Selections of his poetry have been translated into Afrikaans, Albanian, Bengali, Dutch, French, Italian, Kurdish, Malayalam, Persian, Serbian, and Spanish. His sixth book, Of Sand and Sugar, was released in 2019. His podcast, Songs of Selah, airs weekly on 17Numa Radio and features interviews with poets, artists, musicians, and health advocates. More about Outlar's work can be found at 17Numa.com

Holy Trinity



Please don’t feel sorry

for all the sad follies


of nature

of God

and of our


broken attempts at love

Of Godhead and Gravestones



Rip the words from my tongue

before they find form


seven x seven x light

the specks of our eyes


even the swine

bathe now in pearls


even the cursed

catch their own fish


I swim in the gasp of your waves

last lungs on earth


river x ocean x fire

everything is always ending


everything is always burning


everything is always birthing


Casting Cards



I wouldn’t dare

call myself a poet

or an artist/or a warrior

or a fighter/or a servant/or a stoic

or a fool


I’m just a hermit and a vagabond

going within so I can wander


but these pines work well as bones

sturdy long enough to carry the hour


and all this dirt will eventually receive

the same returns of what once was offered


profit every whisper of groaning breath

pilfer specks of sand from six scratched eyes

protect the black of my lungs/

                                      tongue with glazed amber


Harvest the autumn

red leaves sign caution

blood in the engine

ghosts crawling through dry veins


Spells cast the season

cold snap of reason

heavy pulse turn plasma

gears shifting beneath the plates

Give & Take



It’s interesting

how the black void

of absolute

nothingness and despair

that haunted your life

as a scared child


turned out to be

the same exact

space of consciousness

found in meditation

that saved your soul

as a 30-year-old man




Life offers but two options

on its menu


You can lament

over what has been lost

in the past

for all your days

& remain


(half full at best)

& forever starving


or you can forge your way

toward the future

& forage for a feast

that will fatten you

with peace & happiness


It’s all ice cream & oranges


& the fine line between



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