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Best Poems From
AMANDA SAVELEY
(December 29,1987)
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37.
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He Smiled (Ode To A Friend)
He always smiled.
Crazy-haired boy with tired eyes
That told the story of his neverending struggle
With this mess called life...
Those eyes are closed now.
They will see no more.
But he always smiled.
He could never win in life.
Much as he tried,
He only made things worse.
He could give good advice but couldn't take his own.
He was a lot like me...
But he always smiled.
Lines marring bare flesh betrayed him.
Told his story.
I said to him,
'Got something to say? Write it on paper, not your arms.'
'Pain makes great what pure skill cannot.'
'Masochism is a sure sign of stupidity. Plus, it's not a very attractive quality.'
And he listened.
He took my advice where I could not take his.
But he always smiled.
And at the end of all things,
He went where I could not follow.
He left misery behind to wait with me.
There was pain.
There was dark.
There was loss.
But he always smiled.
My friend, my confidante...I will always miss you.
Be in peace.
And wait for me.
Amanda Saveley
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38.
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Her
I miss her...
Her kind smile...
Her fond words...
Her jokes...
I miss everything about her.
Her eyes, rolled every so often
The way she used them
To look at me
Like things I did meant something.
What I would give to see those eyes again
To talk about the philosophies of life
With pauses for necessary sarcastic commentary
And her laugh...
What I would give to hear that laugh again
She grows each day
In superb magnificance
And to think that perhaps I had a hand in that brilliance...
That beauty...
It makes me feel
That maybe,
Just maybe...
I might have accomplished something worth doing.
Amanda Saveley
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39.
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His Hands...
His hands...
I watch them intently,
Waiting for what secrets they might unfold
Beneath those fingers that grip the pen
That spills the ink
That makes the picture
That opens my mind
That shows me the world
Without making me leave where I sit
His hands...
They've known everything
And yet they know nothing
They are innocent
But they are tainted all the same
They are brilliant
But misunderstood
His hands...
The writing that comes from them is strange
But the words...are beautiful
Like a flower
They wilt beneath my fingers
And I kept them
Even the ones with thorns
That prick
And sting
And make me bleed with their honesty
His hands...
Have broken me...
But through the pain...
They have made me better
Amanda Saveley
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40.
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How Do You Stop To Smell A Rose When You Are Without A Nose?
Life is...fleeting...
Moments fly like butterflies and passing thoughts
No one considers
In this endless line of seemingly continous patterns
The everyday monotony
That makes spouses cheat and people fall from beaten path
Just to break from that which is suffocating them
But my morals keep me here,
Strap me down like binding vines
That push me into the ground of mediocrity
And fasten me to a pre-assembled destiny
Perhaps this life is not mine to lead.
Perhaps it will be too easy.
Maybe I'm having everything handed to me
And the only struggle is learning to accept that I can always win
Or that I'll never win
Not really.
These moments that bring me to revelations
Are little more than nails in my eternal coffin
And you will lie with me, dear
Yes, you will lie down with me here
And when I make my final stand
Will you be here?
Or will you be gone, so far away...
Where not even God can reach you?
Amanda Saveley
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