Poetry by Amanda Eifert

” The Writings On The Wall Reveal You”

 

——
Am I real?
When you look at me,
Do you see me for me?
Do you care what you see?
I’ve only questions,
While you play your cards close.
I’m not going to cheat,
Peer at your hand because —
I’m afraid what I’ll see.
Such truths, I don’t want to gaze upon —
Unfaithfulness,
Only physicality, sexuality;
No emotion or affection,
No conversation in person,
No Voice stroking voice.
—–
Hands speak with our words,
Eyes glint and reveal,
Secrets you’d rather hide,
With sunglasses.
Staring at your hand,
Trying to beat my cards.
Poker face silent, emotionless;
All bets are off.
Time to show me your cards,
What the river dealt you —
Matters not; but for now,
Play how you like.
Fold if you’re scared,
Of falling into deep,
Of feeling emotion.
Your heart picking-up,
Thumping a beat.
——
But, perhaps, I’m a woman for fodder,
For a lonely night at home.
Perhaps, I’m not pretty enough,
Not thin enough for you.
Maybe, you know I’ll ask questions?
Questions you have trouble answering.
Maybe, you know —
I’ll turn the wanderer in your soul home,
And welcome you in my arms.
Maybe you’re not ready,
Perhaps, your only an ass.
A nice way of saying,
Other words I want to shout.
Perhaps, I’m only a date —
And one night.
Is this how you treat women?
I’m too strong for your tricks.
——-
You may forget my face,
My name, my body.
You may let me do the walk of shame,
Thinking I’m fooled by you,
The man I liked all along;
You may believe —
Finally, you wore me down.
And now I’m flattened,
Nothing left to sculpt,
Nothing left to shatter.
Smithereens, glass embedded.
You may have led me astray,
Made me consider:
I no longer think,
Some guys are good,
And some guys do care.
——
But when I chose you,
Maybe I didn’t realize,
I was choosing all wrong.
Maybe, I should’ve gazed above me —
Seen the ‘writings on the wall.’
Seen the woman in her glory,
Waiting for her own life,
On wings to rise and fly;
From your lies and tricks;
You didn’t shatter me,
I saw all the writings,
Every word on that damn wall,
I know all your horrific secrets;
And I read them all.

 

“The Darkest Faeries”

——
The wings of a faerie, a delicate lace.
Transparent and glowing with,
Each faeries myriad colour choice.
You can see their wings flash,
When the sun begins to set;
When echoes of the rainbow,
Give one the illusion of colours bold.
But it’s the faeries who are —
As beautiful as they’re deadly,
Luring children to their faerie lands.
Turning your infants to faeries,
To live many ages;
To play wicked games, faeries play.
—-
They’ve no offspring so they steal,
A babe fed; left in their crib.
Mothers are distraught,
Be not surprised; it’s what faeries do.
You’ve heard the tales and watched,
As your mother, and her mother before her.
Still you cry and sob;
Picking-up your biggest kitchen knife.
Faeries are terrible beings,
We read false truth about,
They don’t actually want to help.
They’re evil when alive too long.
——-
Faeries so tiny,
Keep their race alive.
Promptly, wave their hands;
The wisps of their garments,
Sleeves like streamers trailing long.
Chanting magic ancestors taught,
They curse your darlings with bright wings.
And turn you and you husband away,
Searching for,
Your their stolen little ones.
Though your broken-hearted mother,
You keep up your fight.
You want your children to grow,
Not become an evil faerie;
Live a Millennium to burn.
——-
Faeries lead astray those,
Who try to capture them.
You who yearn for your babes,
To get your children home.
As faeries, your darlings grow in the blink of an eye;
Become adult faeries in days,
Not knowing they were humans young,
Merely, days ago.
——
Mother’s sorely missing kids,
Are wandering the forest for —
Where ancient faeries hide.
Faeries lie to stolen babes,
Say they were unwanted,
So the faeries gave them home.
And rainbow wings to one day,
Catch the eye of yet more babes.
Lost before a parent sees,
A child stolen gone.
——
Faeries change your young,
Dawning them with gossamer wings,
Knowledge of mischief and celebration.
A faeries life is of none-stop festivity,
With little meaning;
And no knowledge do faeries posses,
But the knowledge to take;
Those you hold so dear–
It’s why you burn their wings,
In the candle lit at night;
So, they will never curse your home,
And bring you a mother’s tears,
——
Why you learned to take your knife,
And kill the old faeries weird,
To end their malicious games.
Take back your children,
Undo the magic faeries formed.
You’ll burn and stab their wings all night,
Until your children,
And your neighbour’s young,
Are finally, safe at home.
So the faeries fade away.
Die out with no offspring,
Because of you;
Your child lives.
And never will you cry again,
From a fairy interfering.
You, most feisty mother,
For your perseverance, you have won.

Shadorma: “Women War Not Alone”

—–
Such times as,
The ones she lives through.
She conforms,
Yet wants more.
Sees hurt, it perpetuates;
Never healing whole.
—-
Self-harm and —
Hate common, if she–
Keeps hurting;
Harms others–
Hate with false judgement, it wins.
Woman, think thoughtfully.
—–
End the pain,
Close the doors so she,
Locks terror,
Out in cold.
An unforgiving night, reminds —
Her, fight gently.
—–

Keep working;
I know her battle,
It’s as old,
As the earth.
Men and women must fight for,
Prosperity.
—–
If only,
For a moment’s time,
Pax, and rest.
She is wise,
For seeing tomorrow’s pain;
Unburdens those lame.
——-
Light in the,
Darkness, shines, provides —
Glimmer of,
Hope, assured —
Fighting, with her words and sword;
Hoping for happiness.
——
Good prevails.
Light’s glow permanent.
Good’s older.
She drinks wine;
Thinking of mornings, sunrise —
Reminds her she’s loved.
—–
Leaves on tree,
Dusting her path yet,
Leaves mark the —
Passing of,
Seasons; each one she shines light,
Earth keeps turning while —
—–
She worries,
Weeping in bad times,
She doesn’t
Forget what,
Was fought for at heavy cost,
She lives; others fought —
——
For her now.
Because in their time,
They had few —
Rights at all.
Doing wife’s duty despite,
Desire for freedom — rights.
——
She looks for,
Light in the tunnel,
At the end–
Of the war.
She fights not alone; she holds —
Strength in her faith bold.
——
For her God,
Never gives up, for —
Women so —
Precious; God–
Created Man and her equals.
Partners; she’s not less.
——-
Complement,
She smiles because she —
Knows inner —
Completeness.
Remembers God’s son best knows,
Inequality.

Biography:

Amanda is a writer, blogger, and student in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. She has a BA in English Literature, a certificate in Residential Design, and is pursuing an online MFA at UBC in May 2017. She loves being creative and imaginative in her writing. She enjoys drawing and acrylic painting, dogs, hanging with her friends and family, Netflix, scrapbooking, and yoga. Amanda blogs at: www.mandibelle16.wordpress.com.

Poem’s by Lele Harris

Beauty of The Lost Mind

by Lele Harris

LELE

Is it the face among which I appear?

Is it the craft of clothing that I wear?

Is it the image of another soul whom I loved?

Is it the texture of my skin that I pursue?

Is it the spoken words which rattles my mouth?

Is it the pride of guilt who caused me pain?

Is it the song of my voice which leads another heart?

What is it within the beauty of my lost mind?

Changes Of Nature ; Seasons Of Change

By Lele Harris

clock

The sun shines.
The moon glows.
Peace is a great feeling when the wind blows.
The grass is green.
The flowers bloom.
The chirp of the birds makes your soul gloom.

Nature is there.
Nature is here.
The seasons of change when times are near.
The mind rests.
It’s time to think clear.
The silence of people talking will have you in a cheer.
Let your light shine through troubles.
Let your light shine through sorrows.
It’s all a gift when you see a smile.
The next time you pray rejoice for a while.
The heart is full of happiness.
The soul meek in joy.
Spring is here.
The changes of nature will now glow.

Positive People, Positive Life, Positive Vibes

The more I take a look around I either see a face with a smile or a face upside down.

Where is the happiness among those you choose to hang with, unless they are not the ones to play with?

What happened to the times you laughed, talked, & smiled? Was there not enough room for others to share your proud?

This may not be the only time you worked hard & thought of being a failure. You can not forget God lifts us up when our work is always heavier.

Try to remember that Joy always come in the morning. Is it not so of you having faith or are you in mourning?

Take my shoulder for you to lean on. We all need someone to help & keep us lifted up, just someone you can depend on.

Smile your day is already here. For God loves you more & more & you definitely won’t have to shed another tear.

Positive people, positive life, & positive vibes is what you need. No more of sad frowns & keep in mind God hears your every need.

Hello.
It is very nice to have the opportunity to have three of my poems of my choice published. I am from Mississippi. Each poem represents motivation and a time in which I was going through my toughest life situations and only God could bring me out of. I hope I get the chance to inspire others and make a difference in this world. May God continue to bless each and every one of you.
And remember to always Stay Blessed & Stay Encouraged.

Lele

 

BLOODLETTING BY ERIC SYRDAL

BLOODLETTING
by
Eric Syrdal

warrior ERIC

Once again
She
summoned to this place
against her will
never shy from battle
never austere in the face
of consequence
ever rising up against
that which would seek
to pin a name tag on her
significance
yet again she finds
she is brought back
to answer for deeds of which
she is guiltless
the crime lies
in the drawing of steel
ambition to claim
far beyond what the universe
decides is available
pursuit of oneness of mind
control over her vital organs of reproduction
more so
to decide
reliant upon her own free will
to cover her curves
behind plates of iron
hard armor protects supple skin
from the caustic glare of
an angry and jealous world
or might she
remove her breastplate
and cast it to the earth
her vorpal blade
slicing effortlessly through
the hide straps that
cling it to her
the metal clanging to the
ground and growing cold
devoid of contact
with her breasts
that now
wear a glossy sheen of saltwater
and rise and fall with determined breaths
once
in the golden days of her youth
and amid the roar of pitched battle
she was a flash of a blade
in the midday sun
she moved like the rippling air
over an open flame
none cast upon her
a withering glance of disdain
none dared to draw her ire
nor to tempt her martial prowess
Now
on this stage
in the light of her will to be
free…
free of torment
so readily clothed
in the excitement
of past lives
She turns her sword
to butchers work
carving cleanly
and fluidly
with surgical precision
she sets about her task
carefully
an apothecary
She now assumes the role
of healing her soul
she places the razor-sharp blade
on the ground next to her
within this arcane circle
on her knees
the echo of her battle cry
like rolling thunder
she holds aloft
the throbbing septic organ
She watches the crimson drops
of Life’s honey roll down her arms
her heart
seized in her own hands
She squeezes
and marvels at
the ruby pools of dreams
that collect in her greaves
and run over
onto the thirsty earth
of this battlefield

Biography:
Eric Syrdal is an independent poet/author. He’s an avid gamer and SciFi enthusiast. He enjoys reading science fiction and fantasy literature and spends a great deal of his writing time focused in those genres. He is from New Orleans, Louisiana, where he lives with wife and two children.

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