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Best Poems From AMANDA SAVELEY
(December 29,1987)
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69.
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Memories Again
I dream without sleeping
Memories running across my mind like stars cross the sky
A shimmering brilliance fading to dust
Skinned knees and bruised hearts never really heal
Scars are left in their wake
You can't heal that which time cannot touch
A thing frozen in neutral gear
Waiting for something else to come along and affect it
If only to make it move
Just an inch,
Barely noticeable
Can make a world of difference
Even if it is a just noticeable difference
Flash cards drift across memory
JND, Siddhartha Gautama, creer,
All blurs barely distinguishable now
As a greater purpose takes their place,
Consuming,
Leaving nothing in its wake
For me to recover
Amanda Saveley
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70.
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My life be like...
WHOA!
Stupid people everywhere,
Eating paint chips with leaden bases
Poisoning themselves from the inside
Their brains naturally damaged,
Grow worse with each flaky morsel of death
'Don't chew on those, they'll make you sick! '
My cries, they go unheard
I scream and shout and wave my arms
But no one seems to get it.
No, no one seems to understand
What laugh, they think I'm dancing!
But no one dances like that,
For if that were a dance
It'd be the warning dance of impending doom!
Waving my arms about and jumping up and down
Perhaps I think I'm a bird who cannot fly
Though I try
I try
I...try...
But even then, to no avail,
It seems they do not listen!
Am I to be the crazy one?
The insane voice of reason?
For yes! oh yes! I must be a mess!
To be sane is so unhealthy,
I am completely straight, so I do not exist!
There is no disease I have with which to define myself!
Whatever shall I do!
What sadness!
What catastrophe!
Say you who does not understand the words that come from my lips,
Do I look retarded to you?
With my waving arms and bouncing knees
'Do not eat them, they will harm you! '
'Don't do that which brings you displeasure! '
But perhaps...
You like the feeling of distress.
Perhaps...
You like the mess you make of your life
But lo, you will not take blame.
No fingers shall ever point at you,
And say,
'This is my life. I have made of it what it is. I enjoy this distress, this mess.'
No.
You won't ever do that, will you?
You point fingers, all ten,
Wherever you can get them!
Well, stretch your arms far out, extend those fingers
Perhaps you shall resemble a tree!
And I, who looks like sickly bird trying to fly...
Well, who do you think will look the more silly?
Amanda Saveley
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71.
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Nameless
I have...
No name.
Not today.
I tried my best to find something to be called
Anything at all,
But nothing. Sounds. Right.
It all sounds the same to me.
Fighting back tears I know will come,
Inevitably,
As they always do
But it can't happen like this...
I won't lose you...
Not like this...
I refuse
To be called nameless by a thousand different words
That never passed your lips
I would fight them,
Those words
And earn my name
If only to carve it into your heart
Amanda Saveley
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72.
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No Title Could Ever Explain
I hate your desperate honesty
Telling me everything I want to never hear
And nothing at all in the same breath
Your silence is maddening
The secrets in the break between words
Driving me to unreasonable angst
I hate feeling...this way
This pain that makes no sense
This loathing that beats at my insides,
Tearing at my pulmonary like rust
I hate this uncertainty most unfitting of my persona
This crippling doubt intigrated into my mind
To the point where I can't tell where it ends and I begin
I am married to my own discontent
Unable to break the shackles that bind me to my misery
Amanda Saveley
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