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amy-bells
amy-bells
33/F/American Plant-based, baby faced yogi dancer. / Ethical by choice, compassionate by nature. / My poetry often relates to love, nature, mental illness, self-improvement, and friendship.
Lost in lunar waves, Tossed by your embrace… A celestial twinkle of memory lives on indefinitely… I’ve had you in passing glances and in soul-holding stares… I’ve had you with ice cream with three stuffed bears… I’ve had you in sweltering summer, in lentil soup fall… I’ve had you without ever having had you at all.
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Jun 8, 2021
Jun 8, 2021 at 4:41 PM UTC
Lunar Waves
My dad taught me that placement in society is ultimately irrelevant. He taught me you can find your eager slice of happy anywhere, not just in between four familiar walls. I used to think that if only he had access to a mattress and a ceiling he'd find his happiness. But, I realized - Who am I to dictate what makes another feel complete? Here, by the park benches, His heart blooms like a grandmother's rose bush. He lives moment to moment. Cares not for possessions, Has no schedule, No place to be. Has no bills, no debts, no credit, no ID. Scrounges the ground and kind strangers' gestures for everything he owns. But oh, his cold, tired bones! I worry how long a journey lasts for a lone vagabond. Envigorated by the sounds of the sea and chance encounters whether they be familiar friends or family or the palpable presence of all that's imaginary. It all lurches to him in a grand symphonic dance, Linking his hours to days, and days to weeks, extending outward and upward to take the heavens in his grasp. A pigeon dove lands on his tattooed finger. He laughs, and it flocks to another's perch. A tree branch this time. The animals and children look into his eyes and wonder about the stranger. Alone, raggedy, down on luck but up in spirits, and they recognize a body brimming with presence. My dad taught me you can be nobody and still have everything.
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Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 4:14 PM UTC
What My Dad Taught Me
I’ll bloom in spring Alongside the Californian hills. When the rain paints The terrain green With speckled white wildflowers, I’ll tiptoe on sunlight to touch the sky. I’ll be the brightest star They’ve yet to discover. Shooting, shining, falling, And wished upon. Dry land, crispy and brown Underneath my feet on A winter night.
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Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 2:03 PM UTC
Bloom
I’ve never felt More luxurious Than when I was on a newly Prescribed drug With a total body high, Coming down from mania, Still exuberant, But in a private space, In my bathroom In the ward, In a bathtub That does not fill up. So I put on the shower And I let the water hit my skin And I took bite after bite Of crisp and juicy apple slices. I was at the mental hospital Marilyn Monroe stayed in. I imagined her here in the same bath Also feeling luxurious and all sorts Of ****** up like me.
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Mar 6, 2021
Mar 6, 2021 at 2:48 PM UTC
Sharing a Moment with Marilyn Monroe
Love is the universal element. Attention is the universal currency. Together we embark on celestial Missions of ordinary urgency. Gathering up mountains, Effervescently iridescent. Cloaked to me like thunder Clasped to a forlorn crescent. Details of blue, Flashes of indigo, Orbit the thoughts That think through their howls. Reminding us the wrongs That we’ve fought. With patience and wisdom Of spiders and owls.
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Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 9:10 PM UTC
Celestial Missions
I chose you Like the butterfly Chose the sun. Like the moth is Nocturnally drawn To the moon And any other Illuminated illusion. Frenetically chasing In a trance-like dance, We wade through Day and night Like winged creatures. Expressive messengers, Speaking a language In metaphor Available to all Who can hear Symbols and scriptures Written by an architect Keen enough on details To give day and night Its doting darlings.
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Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 8:31 PM UTC
Speaking in Metaphor
During this energetic renaissance, People are the libraries To unbridled, universal energy. Concrete towers replace the ivory. Leading up the bookcase, Hands on mahogany. When the hourglass flips, So do the pages. We feel blessed moment to moment Throughout the ages.
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Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 4:12 PM UTC
Libraries
You stir my cold embers just right. Warmth crackles through that is bound to ignite. You stir me from stiff slumber’s grasp. Arising like Phoenix, adorning black mask. Concealed from view, hidden black goddess. Awaiting arrival, slow burning embers in darkness.
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Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 5:26 PM UTC
Embers
The double slit experiment In quantum mechanics Shows us one thing: That you can’t trust a ************ You can’t even trust a particle Without watching it like a hawk, And even then it will disobey you. Be a little rebel, Get yourself a little ***** Have your own opinions, Let relationships decay into ruin. Quantum mechanics tells me That we’re all a little cunty, Even the atoms that comprise us, So what choice do we have In the end?
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Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 7:27 PM UTC
The Double Slit Experiment
All these poems We write To save our lives. To preserve like amber, Only more futile. To hope and pray our children May live on and bless What’s left of mankind. May move them with their liveness, Their boldness, their plain old truth. Even if all they ever did was express How they really felt to be alive.
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Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 1:02 AM UTC
Amber