Monday, March 31, 2014

Clamoring Revitalives

Relativists often project
a profound endowment of the intellect
nowhere is a brief moment of insanity
that we cannot combat with profanity.

Prude relatives drink prune juice
judge you at their righteous mind work tricks
and procure you to a bulletin board
to let others throw the knives at your head.

Talking to new acquaintances;
act like you mean it in superficial mannerisms
but to get somewhere deep you let seep
the emotions within...
than they walk away forgetting you completely.

Do not be deceived that life is more
or less a filibuster suck fest
recreating old news with newer drugs;
observational format is for thugs.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Not A Corpse Yet

Even if I slip up,
the net is there to catch
the debris I tossed aside.
I will collect that debris later,
set it up on a stage with
specific lighting,
and paint it onto canvas.
Unfortunately the debris pile
grows large as a redwood tree,
toples over.
Buried in an avalanche.
My body is not found...
but I am not a corpse yet.

You Underestimate Me.

Click to enlarge for best viewing option.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Fault in Our Wallflowers

The part without resonance
is to recreate the adjective
prescribed by doctors to
initiate her to this psyche ward.
The nurses lost lemons by
the millions every single day.
No wonderment at all.
She was the type of human
described by many others as
a wallflower.
She relinquished in her defeat,
exaggerated her fears,
performed her duties in mystery.
Others thought she was indubiously
plastered to the wall to keep
the foundations held up and steady.
However, the day she made the
walls freeze over and heave,
eruptions broke, flowed, and were freed.
Every inch of her pallet was resourced
by the undead government.
"Watch out for the quiet ones" was
a whispered phrase held on keychains.
If you didn't know it,
it is the word of the prophets now.

Earth is Sick

All is fresh, clean, and ideal.
Unrealistic expectations to place
on dirty humans, the hobos of the street.
We are not discreet,
standing on feet
doubled over by limbs
weighted down by guts and ribs
and on top of it all,
the brain compartment
bounded by skull, flesh, hair, maybe
a hat, and a mouth that speaks too much
when it shouldn't be heard.
The eyes that go on blinking endlessly.
Dull breathing in and out the nose.
Ears that remain fixated to the dropping of
change to the ground.
Your feet take off running,
just to catch some metal.
What does this life mean at all?

Candlestick Catacombs

A razor blade at bay
crept in and swooped away
with pieces of your limeade hair.
Candy-centric society
caffeine addict hypocrisy
sheds leeway to greater musings.
Unpublished and unsound
puttering the particles and bits
milking the shrouds of envy; snake fangs.
Venom produce
packaged in Syracuse
shipped internationally...
aren't you a proud mama blues?


Explaining the handmade maiden voyage,
I express my frivolous frailty.
Deeply regrettable are the vegetables,
leave the platter next to the salt shaker.


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Monday, March 17, 2014

Running Toward the Edge of A Time Piece

If I had leapt toward a cow
inward innards bludgeoning plow
begonias muddled up
stinking rags
petunia helium
realistic mags.
Goldfish atheneum
sepulture brags
hidden indigo gypsy
smoking scabs.
Trespassing trapeze
troops deploy in breeze
creep in knee deep
seaweed scum
open eyelids
out toward shattering
gramophones glass.
Remain like a statue
collect like magnets
invisable as a rhino
within the grass
bleeding out for the mass.
Sneezing, bumping,
blurting out secret words,
friends, no friends, go back home.
Lock up, look out, die alone.
Sneaking ghostly
around the cabinet,
knock the contents out,
scare a man.
Make your way at the ground
six feet under going down.
Dizzy array of blurring sand,
shocking the foundations,
collapse a house,
devils work,
worship no one.
Gathering ego,
reincarnation incompletion,
missing half of yourself,
search the people,
pick up trails of wormhole gas.


I don't want to feel anything.
Forgiveness of empty mountain air,
arid desolation is a dislocated joint,
the space between the ligament reclining
muscle and skin with blood,
I can't have this life I want to have.
And for that I must die.
Never. Do not cry.

Saturday, March 15, 2014

You Can Marry The Dead

Do not be a deliberate liberal
To count the keys 
And to turn down the menus
Of a departed restaurant. 
Calling out the capture and release
Of my mind from a vice grip, you chose to drip Thorazine from time to time. Get the floor slick and go spinning. My arms don’t reach too high, nothing 
there but clear air.

Pushing Crocuses

You inhaled the soft opal aroma
in and around the different ground.
Taking the water from my cup
was all that you could do
to be yourself.
This is a night that you take
all your influences and use them
to empower your psyche.

Friday, March 14, 2014

Personal Poverty

Edging out to the unusual...
I thus kindly confess,
due to the inclimate unrest,
I cannot connect to others.
If fingertips were to touch
a few particles of your skin,
a chemistry would surely stir.
The physicality is a localized
heathen beast, comes out to feast.
Yet, on a deeper level is what a
soul searcher seeks.
Those levels are caution taped
away from me.
Whether is I whom sticks the tape,
or I sense that you've placed
wall, I respect that wall.
Awkwardness does not
make me back away, but
your ability to initiate quiet time...
the unintentional "Oh my life is
busy" excuse becomes
tired and boring to me.
I am always the one left out
of everybody's life.
Why can't they just talk to me?
No one has a yearning
or a glimmering curiosity to
hang out with me?
If I can't call the shots,
but you do,
I'm the doormat that is
trampled on.
It has been this way
for far too long.
I should accept my loneliness.

I Have A Lot of Alone Time to Be Sick

If you haven't known defeat,
it is going to sleep before midnight.
If you do not understand time,
then no space shall be made for you.
If you cannot count the cars,
the result will be devastating.

Distractions of fairy worlds
degrade an existence profusely
rendered at the subconscious level.
What becomes ironic is the bolder
barely bares resemblance to the
mirror reflection,
that is merely and inclination to
flirt with said iconic idols.

If it pleases the family,
pleasures the wounded,
doves the unloved,
digs out the glass shards,
then and only then shall you
be mine own wife.

On a vine we mingle,
delightful tingles,
twitches and pearls,
ringlets and wronglets,
the lead that dripped into
your ear...
tape up the orifices.
Mommy does you no harm.

Thursday, March 13, 2014

My Shot Glass from Tokyo

Irreplaceable claim typed out
in copious amounts of steel sheets
is the contract for your love to me.

Shout it out from your industrial
strength lungs because I will
not believe you otherwise.

It is not commitment until
that ring is a psychical representation
and then digitized and subliminalized.

On Space Station 31 (aka Neptunes Neighbor)
our honeymoon was a nude adventure
and nothing will fade from sight.

Sealed too tight,
intergalactic light,
fighting out every fear.

The Persona of Dread

The one that can be missed
is always there
staring at you with longing.
As invisible as a gravitational tree,
a raw cut eulogy will sooth me.
And what words shall grace the stone
as the epitaph, or will it remain empty?
One cannot sneak out of the grave,
for it is the final resting place.
And at the sound of a winter cup
that the spoon knocked upon and
opened you up to a world of lonely.
Trying their best as if to accommodate
the stale dove feathers leading to hope,
nothing finds the living scope.
However, hovering over the dread
aspect, picking up on hidden sounds,
observable trenches;
code word thermometer,
trial run climber,
detachable state sideliner.
A sinner is closer to the sun
and for that my friend is your gun
that you placed directly to my heart.
You pulled that trigger to do away
with me and it worked.


Aloha! My name is Amanda, I just like to go by Ama. Finding a way to describe myself is tough, I'm always in a constant state of flux. Poetry has always been a growing interest of mine, I am thus quite vested in making it a habit to have to write every single day just as much as I draw and paint. I am 23 years old and after graduating college, I haven't read a complete novel... that makes me feel so awful. However, I find it so delightful to read others writing on this site. That helps to fill the void of ingesting words into my brain! Although, I am an avid online article reader, they're just so accessible! Other interests of mine include science fiction (mainly Star Trek), MUSIC, study of insects, art history,and when my car has its necessary repairs I will have a gym membership.  I work part time as a floral designer, teach jewelry classes, and sometimes get freelance graphic design work.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

To Unreality

Rectify fritters and doubly rich
characters that cannot come in
contact with me.
How did I get here?
and trouble staring
to finish...

Just how can a car zoom
and I've had no acupuncture
to prove the balance of place.

Paranormal Paranoia

Perhaps the wind passing
the looms of a fractal face
is at the concert in a glass eye
and mechanical heart.
Receipt printed,
debatable usage of money,
God can't place the change
in your mind.
And still you go home and
climb into bed
or is it a studio of art,
crafting of love,
a lonely place.
The ghosts that sit
at the nebula of your skull
churn all your thoughts
preventing actions
like caution tape,
a barricade unlike brocade.
You or I, it's just me, the haunted one
and frowns at the becoming
tapestry that sketches the sunlight
of sky, I have woken up again.

Extensory Media Velocity

Man, melt your mouth on high.
Igniting a gash on filament
amenable mandible administers
trite confessions of confectionary trout.
Two sugars, I placed them on your tongue
and you let it happen
so carefully as that I had none.
At the impromptu rhythm
of dinner in place of a gun,
talk about burning your victims,
succumbing them to mud.
I interjected, got rejected,
and became ejected.  

The last mine to facilitate the needs
of the population
is a joke too laid back
to recognize the crime it commits.


When is it all the time that you need
going to be the time you can't handle
a need for speed.
You crash
and you bleed.
Bleep, bleep, bleep...
please use your the "delete" button.
Proceed without caution,
use your wild ambition.
Do not see this poem to fruition.

Collarbone Parade

Pancake steamroller engineered by a bunny
as chimeras cheer it on
along the sidelines.
Factory workers are now released
due to this great, wondrous spectacle.
Voluptuous balloons with loons afoot,
march toward the barrier reef.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Wistful Tongue Scraper

The abnormalities slowly decrease
when your love intensifies.
The closer we get is as if
a star condenses into a newer
scientific phenomena.
Fem-no-mania erupts,
I grab your tea cup,
liquid and the honey ooze
in retreat...
a reluctant dance upon
brass plates.

The Panda Box Arsenal

Bearing each left turn about
the merry-go-round of bamboo,
a goldfish swallows me whole.
A fish only grows so large as the
pool it swims in...
this fish swims in the space
between the molecules.
If the panda is to be oblivious
and confined,
have you a shovel?
I can dig this creature out!
A voice from the cloud hails,
"You are not a hero!"
The shovel dissolves,
feelings of disintegration
are immigrating like vagrants
up from the hollow sewers.
 They arrive bestowed with weapons
encrusted in mud.

Friday, March 7, 2014

Someone, Please Find: Me!

Plethora of sleek pleather,
a flea bargain deal...
duck and cover.
For your rib cage
is not the meal.
Skin and bones is what
you seek.
That image is so bleak.
The meek soul is too eager,
bring her the elevator,
no, not the escalator.
They asked the excavator
about the news
broadcasted null the heavy tune,
o'er the thunderous mountains,
lowly hung valleys,
shy caverns,
hollow willow woods.
The dusty feet could no longer
withhold the deteriorating dam.
The water rushes in,
as if a woman is late for a date,
only to find out that this place
is so much larger and
gravely different
then when she entered her grave.

To awaken a ghost is a great task,
yet to care for the ghost is an even grander
obsession, so unusual and surreal.
The living individual must be willing
to sacrifice blood and water.
The flesh must be partially departed.
That individual will become
a broken human.

Loosing Time: The Heavy Weight Gain Way

For the lying lilac lack of a
drought-induced dampening field,
the ancient rumors succumbed to
enmass the mountain ranges.

I have wasted my whole day
and I stared into the nothingness
while completely thinking
that it is okay to do this.

Micro anacondria amnesia,
enthusiastically euthanized with a
laser beam by the hands of a
liquidator raking team!

Mythologized acupuncture
conjuncture hereby scrutinized
the sexuality of a tramp stamp!  

Ramp-up mash-ups in music
mix-tapes dance parties,
with a sword between my legs,
words float like rotten eggs.

The Advantageous Horizon

As the sky darkens to violet hues,
the mask-wearers dance out amongst
the shadows that blend
into the no light phase of life.
The remnants of innocence
shall be scorched by the fire.
The means of escape are few.
All the beings are of one mind.
The controller is above the
Carbon copies predates the rock age.
The music forced open wood and metal,
degrading the Gods and the law
and most of all the...
the moon.

Coming to Congeal Me

The makings of an exterior marksman;
leaving bruises and bites, blood dripping,
frailly contained.
And this is not what I would want to
call progress!
To make me silent will take a lot more.
You would have to dismember every limb
from the context of my strongest mind.
Let alone the muscles that adorn my bones
to come and raid me of my peace of mind.
I will not let a commonality of the
same air we breathe to allow you
to enter me, and your words will not shake
me until I allow you to.

Encased in Resin

The Larger Duplex

Container space brain
Reluctant egotism
delayed mannerisms
are the qualities in possession.

I randomly walk to frozen swamps
and ponder the mechanisms of
a merry-go-round.
That eludes to further conclude
the trimmings of lace
traps you in a cognitive trance,
a subspecies coma.
Our vernacular does not dwell
on thoughts that quell.

Take your leave of absence to the
lands of Pumapunku...

Endothermic Dress

If the nuance of my careful
observations are devastating
to you, do not lock your targets
on the base of my brain.

We are here to gather every historical
creative intelligence and download it
to a crystal skull.
Theories suggest it contains information,
but how much more can it consume?
Our wedding registry is continued
at Gobleki Tepe...

Present us with rock samples,
bone shards, and mysteries
leading to possible truths.
I want ruins my path
to become newer landscapes.