You are supposed to help me live longer, but sadly you cause
more pain and for me to suffer.

Starts with a pill,
ends with higher level of
pain and no time to ****.

What's the point if you don't help my pain?
I guess the doctor thinks
it's better to live longer
then comfortable.

I am lucky I am strong,
for I would have thrown you away
the first time you caused me more pain.

I suffer from high blood pressure,
I also suffer from chronic life.
Same as you my friend.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

I am no longer a slave to fear,
I suffered and struggled,
but all was lefted higher
when I let you cary me
through the fire.

I gathered my well
I built my wall’s stronger
all in your name,
I gave you all of my strife
and excepted my life.

I lived as life pushed on
harder, as is your well
and your desire.

You gave me kindling
to build my fire,
allowing my flame
to grow higher.

I have just one desire,
to live for you
and grow until
I can’t grow any higher.

You are my hope and dreams,
you bring me to my knees,
not in vain but for
strangth and exceptance.

Aman

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

I once was able to run
nine miles a day,
now all those miles
seem so far away.

I am like a tree,
I am rooted where I stand
I am twisted up in unforgiving knots.

I know you think you understand,
but the truth is you don't
because you can move
and use your hands.

I am stuck twisted and contorted
in ways you could never understand.

My back is bent and rusted,
my knees creak and pop,
like an old car,
but I ran out of oil for my joints
now there stuck in odd positions.
You can only imagine.

I hurt, my pain burns to the bone,
grinding ******* my every move.

I can't move like you,
I twitch and ****,
I shake and stutter,
my mind is full of painful clutter.

Dystonia since 1981,
I was born with a twitch, ****,
and a stuttering switch with every move I make.
My nickname is Mizztwitch.*

*© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Foreboding is the ghost
lingers on forgotten smoke
( and words we forgot to speak).

A life is like a candles flame,
it burns until the candle melts
to the floor, its smoke lingers
for just awhile longer.

A poet reminds us of the ghost
who they were and how they lived.
We are able to capture what lingers
through the night moaning loudly
for attention.

It inspires a book.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

A whisper from the past,
a life leftover from years passed.

Some believe in you
but I find it deficalt to.

Not because I am not open minded
but because I have trouble believing in a phantom life.  

Though I still have an open eye
just incase you decide
to reveal your ghoulish strides.  

I do hope that you will
show me the truth,
come to me when others
can see too.

I don't know if I believe in you.

I believe in God and his deed's,
also the evil devil who
stills faith from all.

I just find it deficalt to believe
in you.

I have seen creepy thing's
but I also understand science
and the possibilities.

Will I some day come back to haunt
the world, like you?*


*© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

I have left you hope
to remember me by,
like a ghost in the wind,
I last for as long as the wind
carries me onwards
through time.  

I blew away like a wish,
or a phantom kiss
seeking a cheek
so fair and far away.

I faded like an old memory
passed on through the generations until nothing is left of the original me.

I left you hope but you found
old memories instead, a ghost.  

Some day I will fade like everything usaully does over time.

Dust in the wind that's all I am eventually.*

*© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

A violin plays for the wind,
up goes the bow strumming the strings.

A symphony orchestra concert
from nature is created,
such skill and gifted are the crickets.

A beautiful sound that comes from
a tiny insect the color of green grass.

Don't be fooled by it's beautiful song,
for they are known to eat crops
and leave damages like no other creater.

They are famous for causing
plague in the Bible,
and grain fields to disappear
in a night.

Be ware of the violins at night,
such beauty can bring fright.

The crickets love the night.*

*© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Blooming alongside the flowers,
I blossomed like a daisy,
and I blushed like a rose.

My sun kissed cheeks soaked in
the morning,
as it sprinkled golden showers
upon the fields,
each blade of grass rose to the occasion soaking up the rays.

Such beautiful day’s,
I waited through the heated summer,
for the spring to once again
gaze upon the meadows
and awaken the sleeping trees.

I watched as the trees rose
from their sleeping bow,
peeking upward to the bounty
above the valley.

Her name is of giving,
perhaps a river that flow’s
once a year,
she’s called Spring.

Aw such a beautiful lady,
a bringer of renewal,
she’s part of the circle of life.

A full bounty she brings,
giving breath to the Earth,
each kiss gives a gift
a life is awoken.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

That one night never fades from my memories.

Upon unspoken word's
you become a scar on my mind.

With one kiss you become
like a heavyweight pushing on time.

Life slowed for the first time,
it ****** you into my heart,
captivating is your sent.

Like long forgotten perfume
waiting for me to devour it
within my dreams and wishes.

I placed you in a jar,
so I can keep you close to my heart.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

“Play the poem like a song long forgotten, it blew away when the wind decided to play but poetry will never forget me, for I write poetry.”

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Avoid of me,
yet it spills forth from my poetry.

Each letter is formed from
my wicked mind,
whipping and lashing
at your growing need for more.

I write poetry,
not to entertain you
but to watch you ask for more.

I a minion to my pen,
scratch and smudge my ink across
your computers screen.

Fingerprints of a poet,
are not well deserved,
bypassed by you
for one word can do.

A poet I am,
a painter of word’s,
an entertainer of sorts.

I just love playing with my word’s.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Chaos and free,
judged are we who don’t conform
to your views of reality.

With society’s broken ideology.

A pretty face in a magazine,
stitched together with fake
believes, judged for not being
pretty enough,
Photoshop can’t fix me.

Oddly enough you think I am
odd because you don’t see like me.

My mind you say is broke
because I don’t think like you.
You act like everyone should be
the same,
if one goes off frame,
their judged for not sticking
to your guns and your filming rules.
Are no joke.

Such hatred you reflect,
yet you won’t admit you are
the ugly and bad,
not me.
You make me choke.

Ideology.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

On every leaf the sun’s rays gently plays.
Upon the mornings dawning
the birds chirp
and the curtains rise,
to allow the light to bathe
my tired eye’s.


**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Nothing is left,
the pieces have fallen apart,
until they are too small to see.

I am to insignificant for you
to care,
I am like a wound
itchy and bothersome,
you wish I wasn’t there.

My soul is always out in the open,
it’s bare and naked
for all to see.

My scares are visible,
kinda hard not to see
my suffering,
for I wear my struggles
on my sleeve.

My armor has a weakness,
it is you.
I never forgot how much
I love you.

You are tattooed upon my heart,
I have your name stitched
upon my soul.

Everyone knows who you are
because I have no secrets
no mask to wear.

You are my pain,
my dying heart you hold tightly.

My love you have,
my heart you choked
with your brutal needs for more.

The heart is greedy,
it can cause the mind
to be needy.

Such pain love can bare,
causing the oceans to flood,
the walls to fall into the pushing
oceans of your love.

Doesn’t matter how much I share,
you don’t care.

To my broken love.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

I will always miss you.

When I am with you
it reminds me of all the times
I wasn't with you, so I miss you.

When I am far away from you
I am reminded of all the times
I was with you, so I miss you.

It's a conundrum.*

*© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

I bow my head with sleepy eye’s,
slowly downward goes my head.

Mind drifting,
shifting from reality into
a drowsy darkness.

A flooding moment of silence,
my mind is still about me,
yet I feel a difference in my reality,
it wakes me everytime.

I can never dream until the end,
for my mind is too aware
for it to keep me underneath
the dream state you all are allowed
to share, but without me.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

My friend the sea showed me her bow,
then she rolled over and kissed me.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

"To be a creative thinker
you need to dream.

Awake or sleep a dream
can still follow you."

**© 2017 By Amanda D Shelton

I once fell from the sky,
only to be awakened by the fall.

I opened my eyes to find
my bedroom wall's
where there the whole time.

Dreamers can imagine,
but writer's can imagine
and relate to the dreamers.

That's why we write and read.

Inspiration is the key
to imagining great things.*

*© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Can you feel the change?
Can you see the ripples
rushing like buckets of rain?

We are a growing raise,
reaching for the stars,
casting ourselves across
the vastness of space.

We are dying to see,
to find life
beyond the oceans
and seas.

We yearn for truth
yet we lie to ourselves.

We are blinded by our want's,
by our need for more.

We are a spoiled raise,
running at a slower pace.

We need to open our eyes
and start to pray,
that Jesus is on his way.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Across the vastness of space
my love never fades.

Like a star it grows,
expanse, and tames
the space around its shape.

The universe knows that love
makes things grow,
it feels the vibration,
as we fall in love.

Molecular structures weaken,
only to rebuild.

love never dies
it just goes on vacation.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Of many a night I sat writing
to let my thoughts roam,
the poetic runnel ran steady
and the streem flowed free.

Such nights as this,
I become more than just the poet,
I become the lady of the night
planning plots to take over the night,
with pen and paper as my weapon.

Devouring the moon with
my poetic gloom,
I watch as the moon swoons
and its shadow plays.

With each word I write
it’s wane guides my write and
clears my writers block.

Upon this night I become
the lady of the night.

Its a dark write indeed.

**© 2017 Amanda Shelton

One becomes two,
two becomes three,
but but but wait
go on and on and on and...

1,2,3 go again,
1,2,3 go again,
1,2,3 go again,
you see I can't help being on repeat.
repeat. repeat.
Do it again. again. again.

1,2,3 go again,
1,2,3 go again,
1,2,3 go again,
you see I can't help being on repeat.
repeat. repeat.
Do it again. again. again.

Now lock your door,
nope unlock it again,
now lock your door,
nope unlock it again.

1,2,3 do it again. again. again.
1,2,3 do it again. again. again.
1,2,3 do it again. again. again.

...

OCD yep on no here I go again.
again. again.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Your uniqueness,
and diversity is your legacy.

You birth difects, organs,
and ideas.

You are the philosopher
of your own life,
you are the writer
of your own destination,
you write your own plot’s
and paths.

I wrote a line and walked
upon its graphite structure,
leaving behind my fingerprints.

Like men on the moon,
I walked the dusty surface
of poetry,
leaving my footprints in its page’s.

I wrote this rhyme,
because I understand that
I am a philosopher of poetic ideas
and design.

I am a philosogher,
a poet by design.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

When you roll back the tongue
of a poet,
you will find their inspiration,
the likes of
Edgar Allan Poe,
Emily Dickinson,
Stephen King,
Anne Rice,
and broken hearts,
broken mind’s eager to write.

Music is nothing without
the poet who chose to write
lyrics, strumming each line,
drumming and screaming each line.

Emotions explode,
like stars
and planets,
they build and
birth poetry and word’s,
leaving behind a raw format.

When you roll back the tongue of
a poet,
you will find secrets of the universe,
the Galaxy’s grow,
life planned its path,
upon the tongues of the poets
who wrote the possibility
of creativity.

It blooms upon the tongue of a poet,
creating the formats,
structure, and plot,
poetry is a rolling tongue spitting out emotions and struggles.

Sometimes it cuts like a knife,
leaving its ghostly scares
upon my poetic skin.
Leaving me with a tougher skin.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

You grew on top my bread,
slowly you spread across the surface,
like grass; you grew fast,
green, brown, and black.

You came and ate my bread,
you stole my gluten and fat,
you gobbled it up just like that.

I will never leave my bread out
on the counter again,
I will close the package tightly,
making sure you can't make entry.

I hate moldy bread,
it's not healthy.*

*© 2017 Amanda Shelton

Don't believe the doctor
if they say no one can die
from a broken heart.

I will tell you why.

One day I fell in love,
I fell hard, so hard
I became blinded
by it's beautiful display,
it caught my attention
and my wandering eye.

But soon it caught me
by surprise, it was broken,
and no batteries were included.

It took all I had,
told me lies,
stole my heart and
damaged my life.

Though I was broken,
life always passes by,
time heals all
but scares are left behind.

I might be softer from ware,
but I am not going to be softer
the next time love catches my eye.

I know better.
For now I suffer from high blood pressure.
Doctor can't figure out why.

© 2017 Amanda Shelton

I could barely breathe
as love stole my kiss,
broke my heart
and shattered my dreams.

I once got lost
in loves quite stair,
wandered for year's,
wondered how I got there.

Soon I found myself
setting at a table,
watching love eat my heart.
With each bite
I can feel the crunch,
chewing deeply into my life.

ABCL :
Already Been Chewed Life.

Love stole my heart
and ate it for lunch.

© 2017 Amanda Shelton

I am not heartless,
life just taught me
to use my heart less.

I don’t always allow my heart
to make choices for me.

Life is saddened by love,
because when those
you care about die,
it hurts more than
if they were a stranger.

That’s why I always say,
love is not a happy journey
where the sun always shines.

It can be a barren landscape
wasting away with fattened pigs,
and chickens who lost their feathers.

Love can burn like the hot sun
in the Mojave Desert.

It can drink your blood
until you’re ready to pop.
Leaving you to die
from a broken heart.

© 2017 Amanda Shelton

It’s sad to be judged
by the love of your life.

You wouldn’t think
that someone you love
could do anything like that.

Because love isn’t mean,
love isn’t boastful,
love isn’t a lie,
love isn’t a beautiful day,
love isn’t a fairy tale,
love isn’t a glass slipper.

Love is complicated,
love is hard,
love is painful,
love is gooy, oozing all the time,
love is scratchy,
love is wakey,
love is full of it,
love is pushy,
love is never changing.

It is the person who uses it,
who makes it,
forms it,
sculpt it into
a piece of art,
sometimes they use
the wrong glue
so it falls apart.

**© 2017 Amanda Shelton

One moment you are standing
in the mist,
the next you are setting
in a padded room.

You can hear scratching
from old memories
running through your mind,
reminding you of old times.

You start to fade,
black and white,
the static comes through,
now voices are calling you,
but from where?

You find yourself having tea
with your shadow,
it reminds you,
you forgot your shoes.

Looking down you see
your bare feet
and then the floor begins to move,
as your feet grow farther away,
anxiety set’s in.

Heart beating fast,
faster still,
you feel like running
but you can’t move.

You’re stiff as a tree,
you look down again
and you find you are a tree.

You go from a rooted bed
to a rooted ***,
so tight you feel like
you are chocking
on dirt felled air.

All this time you’ve been asleep,
dreaming you are
fighting with insanity.

© 2017 Amanda Shelton

Every poem that I write
is a testimony of what I fight.

illness,
life,
struggle,
and strife
these are the things I fight.

© 2017 Amanda Shelton

Weathered Poetry

THE SHADY ROSE

"You can never cover up the truth with a lie, but you can cover up a lie by telling the truth. It's simple, you don't lie from the beginning."

I told my brother this when I was seven years old because I was tired of him getting in trouble.
_________

By Amanda Shelton

To Be Shady Like You*

You might like it if I was shady like you, I’d become something more than just your shadow. My stem will no longer be soft and pliable, and my thorns will be hardened and ruthless.

No longer am I nothing but a shadow. My petals have fallen to the cold Earth. My perfume has faded, my stem bent from the weight of time. Though year’s have past, few forgot my hue and glow. Nothing is lift but my plot. I am more than just a shady rose, I am a blooming daisy. You are the shady rose, holding secrets under your rooted bed, slowly choking any flowers that choose to *** themselves close to your roots. I got use to being choked, my roots strengthened and I became stubborn. I will never be shady like you. I chose to make my plot miles away from the shallow tree’s, giving you your spot amungest the shady roses.

I was accused and abused,
I trusted a man who stole right from my hand.

Why?
Because I believed if someone says they love you
that means they have respect for you.
I am wrong,
love doesn't make someone trustworthy or a nice person.

Being honest happens
when someone is truthful,
Being nice happens
if someone is truly nice.

If you are a nice person deep inside you won't find it hard to be kind.
You won't have to work at it,
because it's been there the whole time.

I have been told by one person ever,
How he thinks I am horrible
and dishonest,
when I am too sick to even care
to be mean or cruel,
I never was a dishonest fool.
I never cared to lie,
I would rather work for my dime.

I have fought for survival,
I didn't get here by cheating
and taking what I didn't work for.  

He did,
He stole from me
and lied to my family and friends.
He didn't bat an eye,
He showed no morals.
Yet he was quick to blame me
telling me something is wrong
with my mind.
He never admitted to his crime's.

I feel hated and used,
horribly accused:
by a man who used I love you
until it hurt me.

Sadly I have to tell you,
I am ashamed of him.
I am ashamed that he treated me
in such a way.
I am ashamed that he judged me
poorly and that he judged me at all.

Love is not judgemental,
Love is not boastful,
Love doesn't care how old you are,
Love doesn't care what raise you are,
Love doesn't tell you lies,
Love doesn't spit in your eye,
Love is a feeling that transcends
all time.*

*© 2017 Amanda Shelton

You watched me grow,
my colors shined like diamonds,
but you forgot about me.

You forgot how fragile I can be,
now I have fallen at your feet,
yet you can’t see me.

My tides break, My shores quake,
and my coral fray
washing away with the waves.

Climate change can be a serious thing,
it’s up to you how it changes.

You think you’re so small?
You think you don’t cause change?
Oh how ignorant you are,
you are too blind to see,
you even effect me.

Just because you can’t see something
doesn’t change if that something is real.
Just because you can’t feel something
doesn’t make it less physical.

You think you are insignificant?
Then look closer at your life,
for even now you’re affecting
your surroundings just by being here.

Is that not the point to living;
to experience and grow with
those experiences?

Well I am serious
we need to make a change.

Our Earth needs us to wake up,
and take notice of what we need to do
to help her to keep growing
and stop life from dying.

We need to make the change
before the climate makes it for us.  

**© 2017 Amanda D Shelton

I hate migraines.
They don’t tell you
when they are coming,
and they never knock.

Instead you get an unwanted visitor
who is rude, loud, and causes pain.

It’s not fair
Who’d want that kind of visitor
coming again?

Stupid migraine!

**© 2017 Amanda D Shelton

You cling to me like cellophane,
wrapping yourself around myself
with your electric forked tongue,
as you drag each of my neurons
out into the world;
exposed they are,
as I am left to feel their
nakedness and chills.

I feel their
bite and electric fields;
their pain has become my friend.

**© 2017 Amanda D Shelton

As bright as the sun
you burst into my life,
You cause the smudges to
fade away.

You become like the brush
and I the artists hand,
we craft beautiful art together
under the rising sun.

We both burst into stars,
as I follow you into the chaos
of loving unconditionally.

© 2017 Amanda D Shelton

Who understands the frustrations of using spell check on the phone?
Me I do.

My smart phone isn't very smart,
it types words that I would never use.

Some people are very rude,
they judge me because of a typo.
Hahaha!

I think that some people are just
too judgemental
to allow such a thing to go
without giving demeaning criticism.

It's not fair because it's not my fault the phone is programmed to work the way it does.

How I am the error or the stupid one
if I have tried to change the spelling yet the phone still types for me?

Sometimes it works and has a beautiful sway,
other times it choaks my poetic flow
goes the other way.  

But there's no call for rude comments,
what did I do to you?
It must be your personal issues,
has nothing to do with me.

There only typos,
they won't bite you
or cause you cancer.

You don't have to stop by my space and throw it in my face.

You are a childish person to think
it was okay.
Also I am disabled
and I have learned to love my mistakes.

Why don't you try being autistic and suffer from a movement disorder on top of muscle dystrophy?
You think it's easy for me? Hahaha

I am proud to say "yes I make spelling errors like everyone else does once in a awhile."

I bet you started out with horrible spelling,
you had to because you had to learn just like the rest of us.

You are no different than anyone else.
I hope you feel better about yourself someday.

I wish you the best.
Maybe you need a hug.*

*© By Amanda Shelton

I take a deep breath into my nose
to smell the freshness of clean sheets.

Aw yes, I love that smell,
that warm fresh scent,
that crisp air smell.

There's nothing else that can compare,
to the smell of fresh clean sheets
it's an aroma I will never forget.

I remember when I was a kid,
my mother took me to the laundromat
to clean my sheets.
I couldn't believe the smell,
how I loved that smell,
my mom couldn't get me to leave.

We watched TV while the cloths were turning
around and around,
but I stared at the machine
when my mom put in my bedsheets.
I knew when they were through
I would be in heaven smelling the clouds.

I love clean sheets.

**© By Amanda Shelton

Winds blow kisses,
flowers blow wishes,
while seasons bring change;
Meadows grow green.

**© By Amanda Shelton

No color,
no warmth from the cold weather,
no charisma,
no freshness,
no love just loneliness,
no cover from the rain,
no drain for the tub,
no food in the cupboards,
no water to drink,
no end to the war,
no cooler for the heat,
no ice to make water colder,
no rivers flowing,
no flowers growing.

All is bleak,
all is dark and crawling.

Bleak that's all.

**© By Amanda D Shelton