dream-time remembering

ancient symbols of burning gold

set in stone. pressed like buttons

a sacred code

secret doorway opening

 

must be kept safe

from thee

 

claustrophic seeds are sown

through the cramped tight,

wet hallways

 

once arm embracing

a fully rounded womb

 

the other hand clutched to hers

“this child comes soon”

 

must be kept safe

from thee

 

a repeated mystery

 

Amanda Potter©: 2019 Poetry Marathon

 

child’s pose

sleep deprived

mentally sensitized

the words~

struggling, and stumbling

 

self doubt chimes

 

distracted by chaos

tormented by ego

 

silently screaming through emotional hell

to her proverbial knees she quickly fell

 

head to the floor

tears threatening once more

 

pause, just breathe

just breathe. deeply

 

from the floor she arose

re-centered through prose

 

Amanda Potter©: 2019 Poetry Marathon

The East-side

Along the east-side where the fae may roam

outside my bedroom window is where the latest have grown

 

shrooms have sprouted

where faerie feet have stepped

today a four leaf clover

with a couple daisies in my midst

 

if not for the prompt,

they may have been missed

 

vast varieties of shapes and colors

they’ve always catch my glimpse

 

Amanda Potter©: 2019 Poetry Marathon

swept away

what intentions we are weaving

whispered prayers on trembling lip

 

searching for signs

fencing hummingbirds

before the solstice sunrise

 

lying, body upon the sand

rumbling vibrations, waves

clearing, grounding the soul

 

questions posed with no answers

worries cleared, like tide swept sand

while storms gather

steer clear of ship wrecks

 

Amanda Potter©: 2019 Poetry Marathon

 

Am I

Am I, perfectly perturbed?

I am

Am I, wonderfully witty?

I am

Am I, consciously creative?

I am

Am I, decidedly determined?

I am

Am I, titillatingly thoughtful?

I am

Am I, graciously grateful?

I AM!

 

Amanda Potter©: 2019 Poetry Marathon

Its almost time

Looking forward to this years marathon.  Though it looks like I’ll be doing this one by phone only.

 

It Was Only Yesterday

In the same

Yesterday’s dawn

Only now, the end has drawn

 

Waters still and calm

Though I know

Sleep won’t come

 

Easily, on weakened

Knee

 

Knowledge, and experience

Though, forlorn

Picked up, like stones

Upon, a dreamt up shore

 

If only dreams

Were giants

Crushing, forever more

Incasing thoughts

 

I am, a worthy poet

My battle

Hard fought

 

Safe and sound

As this dawn sings

In Victory

Missed Opportunity

My true calling?

What is with

All the questioning

 

Pointedly objected

Forever scarred

Early on, from ones she loved

Now weary, scared

 

Exhilarating- freeing

In creative be-ing

But it’s not a job

 

How to change that feeling

Dig, further in

It’s okay, to start again

 

Always easier

Said than done

Always slipping

Stumbling, fumbling

Opening the wounds

Of old

 

Overcoming, so profound

 

Portrait of a Poetess

Hair, pinned up tight

Binding, curls unyielding

Like words, bound in dictionaries

 

Linked chains

Weigh heavy

On weary shoulders

Unabridged; worldly worries

She carries

 

Herself, with style and grace

No loss for words

Draped in the velvety meaning

Robes of soft, but solid black

Grounding the energy

That attacks

 

She reaches for stability

From earths, hard grown

Wood lacquered, like her tongue

 

Turning, slightly slipping

Left, but right

Cleverly hiding falter

In her painted posture

 

 

Exhausted Exhilaration

Body tired

Brain stone cold

Wired

 

Here we are

Longing, dreading

Finish line in sight

Three more to go

 

High on caffeine

And inspiration

Music blasting, silently

Exhausting, batteries

 

Running on empty

Living like renegade

Love the underdogs

 

Parade! Parade!

Did the circus come to town?

We are the  poets of the night

 

It’s always different

Then when it came before

Exaggeration?

That’s what words are for!