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Best Poems From
AMANDA SAVELEY
(December 29,1987)
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49.
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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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50.
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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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51.
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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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52.
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How To Be One's Own Floatation Device
Step by step
Word for word
My fingers at the keys are better
Than a pick to my wrist
And I want to believe that my writing can save me
I want to deny myself into thinking that I can be my own healer
But the world doesn't work that way
Thoughts find their way in
They bury themselves deep
Until no one can separate them from the persona they're attacking
So the mind makes up to compensate
It wanders...
Drifting into an open ocean where no one can swim
One tires before they get an end result
People stop caring
It seems that sympathy is a thing of convenience.
Medication is not the answer
One cannot begin to comprehend the workings of another
They can only pretend
And hope that person will draw themselves back in
But no one has thrown me a rope
And thus, I am adrift
I wonder what they'll say at my funeral
Will they wish they had done something different?
Tried harder?
Indulging in their self-defeat they wallow,
Subconsciously grateful for something to give their life meaning,
To add some sort of melodrama they themselves
Were too afraid to openly admit they need
Like a drug
It works into their systems
And chokes humanity from them
So for now,
I will fool myself into thinking they care
If it only saves me from myself
For one more day
Amanda Saveley
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