The Poetry Marathon

I am

More than my name
More than my walk
More than my relationship with a man
Am full in my incompleteness
I ain’t the one God created next.

More than the size of my waist
More than the curve of my hips
More than the inches of my heels
I am a woman and Yes I feel everything deeper than it is.

More than just a toy in bed
More than just a punching bag
More than merely a hand to hold
Am a lady with layers and folds.

More than a need
More than a want
Am more you than I am me.

I do cry over small little things
on hair fall and a broken nail
I do stain the sheets while PMSing
And gulp on chocolates like a maniac.

I love too deep
and smile too real
am not perfect:
am just me
Am a woman
who doesn’t shout for superiority.

Am asking for something we all deserve
It’s sunshine in a world of storms and rains.

Memory Of An Inspiration

 

I cannot say I knew this man…
For I met him only once.
Of course, he touched my heart;
By the roles he portrayed.

His death was a shock. . .
To his fans, such as I.
And more to those close;
Where he was just himself.

We know him heroically;
A savior or a sinner.
For he portrayed them both;
And oh so brilliantly.

His voice was that of dreams;
Low, slow and massage for the ears.
His way was sure, gentle…
How could he really go?

We’ll have him for lifetimes…
In vaults of other roles he played.
My memory will have him…
Upon the stage, and moments after.

Still, it hurts to think that’s all;
He left all too soon.
At least, for us who knew…
Knew him only for an hour or two.

>> Alan Rickman will be missed. I am so happy to have seen him perform on stage at BAM, and get this photo of us together — and a great story behind the pic. Ask me later, and I’ll tell you! <<

number 7

Angst-a definition

Ahh, the joys of sorrow that has no base

Ahh, the manic joy

Anguished  fretting over

Whatever can not be done or undone

Purposeless  yet profound

Real yet without basis in reality

Such is angst

Hour Five – Soon

Everyday with wireless

In your head just emptyness.

Always on the internet

Your life will forget

You soon.

HOUR SEVEN: ANGST

Do you remember, or did you forget
Left those years free, did not look back
When the mornings were slugs, our bodies grotesque,
expanding more than they could ever contract
Each high, each low a moment long
Each joy flimsy, a shallow breath
Resonating with every raucous song
Entranced by the singers, thinking death
Dyeing our hair black or wishing we had
Dying to get out, while living with dread
Dyeing our clothes an acid tone
Dying to the decade we first called home

Prompt 6 – Eventually

There was a girl who took her time in finding her path.
She was free, as far as she was concerned.
Knowing she’d find her way eventually,
She felt no urgency.

Clever and bright,
Her wit astounded those around her.
“So smart! Think of a career! A doctor! A lawyer!
Just use that head and-

You’ll surely be someone successful.”

But what was to define success?
The adults would pet the girl’s head
And praise her ingenuity as she behaved and got good grades
And though she did not know it:

This pride would be her undoing.

What does she do now?
Has she chosen something yet?
What? Why isn’t she in school?
What’s of her path?

Odd looks thrown her way –
Why does the girl flit when asked a simple question?

She does not know.

Anxiety is
Caused in a soul forced to walk
A path not its own.

Ocean’s of Emotions ~ a Pantoum

waves come crashing in again
the tide swelling within
breaking itself upon the stoney shore
feelings can linger there no more

the tide swelling within
drowning, my heart sinks
feelings can linger there no more
purging, to clear it again

drowning, my heart sinks
waves come crashing in again
purging, to clear it again
breaking itself upon the stoney shore

 

©2016 Amanda Potter

Deeper

How much further~infinity

Void Sight~Knowing

Honor forms–to be breathing
This moment can be ever or~eluding

Encounter the Presence this is a preference
The Dark, Light both are~the heavens

Each thought, each movement, each stop
All paint the picture of the constant~oomph

Scorpio

You know it took me forever

To realize that Scorpio was a water sign?

Surely we were fire

Surely we were evil

And burned everything away

After all our constellation was the scorpion

Forever chasing Orion out of the sky

Reminding Artemis every year

That no man could have her

Save her twin brother

 

Surely we were fire

Surely we were evil

Surely we burned and stole and killed

Instead we are water

We wear away

We wash away

We undermine and pull apart

And take away

From mortals and gods alike

hour two

Feels like September
after the rain in August
only few weeks left
we talk together
and nobody hears
what each other
says