[Poetry] Claiming this thread for my poems.

[Amy May]

I'm not one to post my poetry publicly to be honest, but decided to because writing can be powerful in many ways.
It has the ability to open the most clouded of minds, cause contemplation which would have never occured otherwise, sooth wounds which were never mended, touch someone reading it from thousands of miles away.

I'll add to my thread whenever I'm inspired.

This one's a few months old, but good enough to start my thread with.

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Look Inside to See Out


through the eyes of many truths..

through the minds of many views..

Jumbled, Muffled, Twisted, Crumbled..

with emotions like a wreckless ocean..

seen through dusty looking glass with obstacles in motion..

without time to step outside shell to see clarity's divine.. Then we're out of time..

wait a min.. silence yourself.. quiet your inner voice.. look through eyes of your inner child..

the child.. full of wonder, unconflicted by all the blunder..

the child.. untainted, by the anger struck like thunder..

the child.. still with silence, sees the world without a looking glass..

Only Then.. your walls let down to see the truth.

 

[Amy May]

Call of the Broken


Through the depths of the great unknown.. where both heart and the mind disowns..

Where words have no existence.. but where thoughts have no resistance..

Where rays of light delay.. from eyes which just betray..

If reason has forgiveness.. it won't appear within this.

Alone, where time stands still..

Alone, without a will.

Bittersweet moments of loss all must face..

Enjoy your solitude, for it only makes you stronger.

Strength will be your guide.. Allow your spirit to carry you through the burden.

Never doubt yourself for a second.. Thus time is all you have.

 

[Amy May]

Shipping Rates Still Apply


Bought, Sold, and Paid for...

Your soul gets shipped in a tiny box.. exchanged for trends, behind the clock.

If your soul's not dealing scheme.. Then your mind must be just the thing!

The robber of Self, the robber of Being, the robber of Truth.. blinding what you see.

The goal's not to stand apart.. If it was, then it'd never start.


In the midst of my thoughts, the telephone rings...

Hello There!.. We Represent the Following:

- If You Buy This... You'll fit in, like the rest!

- If You Wear This... Coolness takes instant affect!

- If You Drive This... It's like having Super Powers!

- If you try this, you're lucky call of the hour!!!

- If You Smell Like This... You'll have lots of sex!

- If You Look Like This... You'll become T-Rex!

There's so much more we encourage you to try!
... But Shipping Rates Still Apply.

At a loss of words, as my ears bleed.. God Get This Rep Away From Me!

Trying not to be rude.. losing what to say or do, I Say:

... I'll just stay under my rock, Thank You.

 

[Amy May]

The Other


For reasons beyond recognition...

On a Dew Dripped Dawn.. when blood was drawn, due to vengeance as fuel for decision..

The two involved, never met before.. but knew source where the anger was driven.

Each saw in the other what they hated most, despite it unknown what it was..

Each one believed other an unworthy host.. each one, with a mind like a prison.

The leaves on the ivy unscaved from the duel.. just glistened while catching the rays..

Though more without clue than the men involved.. the ivy has answer for hatred unsolved.

The delicate leaves, still with dew of the dawn.. reflecting the rays of the sun..

As reflections appear, in many ways.. the dew, without need to explain the dismay..

The source of the hatred that still remained.. was reflection of each other's Self.

 

[Amy May]

Doesthismakeiteasytounderstand?

.... notice how "easy" sticks out in it all.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Space in Between


Objects at rest, with space in between... the only importance, being what can be seen.

But like with words on a page.. or a melodious chime..

All of it matters... to a point of being divine.

Divine... sweet scent of a cool gentle Spring.

Divine... silence within the most serene.

Passes of time, with space in between... what truly matters is what you make it to be.

But not as with what you do.. but how you carry through it.

All of it matters.. especially how you do it.

Time has no end, but only time itself... as for the rest, an end is always dealt.

... even with the spaces itself.

 

[Amy May]

Once Upon a Time,
... on the Very Last Page


While wondering through forums, like an endless maze.. bored out of my skull, in heavy daze..

With such a state, being bored with no clue.. I moved onto things that I normally don't do.

My finger.. the trigger, in anxious rage.. then only chose clicking the very last page.

One led to another.. to end with a stagger, on game enjoyed by the repairman of hackers.


... Best sig I ever read in my life.


i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!


- The End.

 

[Amy May]

The Choir


Likes rats in a maze, through labs a far..

Humanity twists through endless darns..

The Rats.. more aware than we are.

The Maze.. our minds filled with tortured scars.

Through rifts which have risen.. the split to a schism..

Unlocking padded walls to your secluded prison.

In the darkest crevice of your mind, a small desperate voice suddenly cries...

What am I Doing Here?!?

- Then the answer finally hits you.

You're just another in a crowd full of broken people..

And another off key voice to add to reality's choir.