Beat, beat, beat,
boom, boom, boom,
to the beat, brains.

Drum roll please!
1
2
3
Brains,
in chains,
heart beats under ruins of loves
damage. Brains!

Zombie heart seeks?
Brains! From past love affairs.

Not revenge, just brains!

Zombie heart, beats undercover,
seeks! Brains!

Ruins, zombie heart a corpse
from a broken heart.

©️ 2025 By Amanda Shelton

Misery likes to keep
commiserate company.

Mixing the bowl of emotional
soup, causing overflow of
stress and anxiety.

Sympathy keeps misery company, having tea every morning. At brunch they talk about the news, all of the shadowy darkness that looms over our heads.

Aching hearts, tugging at the strings of emotionality, we’ve waltzed with our memories many times before.

Misery likes to keep busy,
commiserate likes to remind
us we’re not alone.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

I heard the angles calling,
I drowned the voices in a
slurry of precaution and shame.

No more worries, the doctor's
got the cure just drink it
up there's no hurry.

I suffered for their treatments
and child abuse.

Still, the shadows danced
across the wall my mind was
drunk off anxiety and
depression.

My dreams were reality but my
waking hours were all a dream.

Delusions and fantasy all
the same, until the fog lifted
me from the dream.

A little birdie brought me
clear skies and a deep simulator
that opened my eyes.

Now I live in the light,
six wire's are planted inside
my brain sending signals so
I can control my twitching
and contorted frame.

I am a bionic woman, living
no dream just reality.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Tinging and tapping on the window,
the rain collects on my pain
in small droplets rolling down
as they get bigger and heavy
on the glass.

Landing on my hand, the drop
came slowly in my mind from
my sorrow and my eye.

Like the rain of the window
sorrow gets heavy rolling like
a stone, tapping on the window
of my life.

The first teardrop stings,
the second is like a scar its
always in mid air as I gasp for
a breath. Forever it seems.

I am the teardrop...

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Freedom is no longer available,
we are slaves to large corporations.

We colonized American,
only to in slave her people
who lived off its soil
before cowboys
found gold and oil.

Now we have been taken by the
greedy and needy man, who
has been handed rights
to slow down the one thing
we deemed free (the internet).

You think because you have been told
America is free and bold,
that makes it true.
Yet look at you,
we have a president who came from
greed, and TV.

Who thought he could run a country?

He knows nothing of the people,
he knows business and gluttony.

Hollywood has turned into a
horror film, always on film,
those stars shine bright,
but if you look to the sky
you’ll see a darker side.

Why? Because love of money
is the root to evil.

Businesses run everything,
from the foods we eat,
clothes we wear,
the fruits we bare,
and now the internet.

How do we share when
companies have all the rights
to choose our rights?

I am ashamed of America,
I am ashamed of my people,
who stole our freedom.

Poor America it has joined
the other nations
who are corrupted
by the needful heavy man
who runs the main land
(The Government).

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

He's trying to burn his bridges,
when we can see him starting
the fire. He's in denial but still
lights the fire on camera yet
he doesn't forget to smile.

Burn baby burn!

He's working for the devil
five to nine lighting fires
wasting time.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the wind I ride,
with great stride
I come on pride.

I suffer much but still I drive,
I drive deeper still
with my heart of steel.

My windy steed I ride
like the queen of dusty dreams
and long forgotten memories.

I ride the winds of weathering tides,
as they roll across my lifespan
of deserted plan’s.

I fought shadows with my bare hands,
with flashing stars falling from my vision.

All this and a face full of sand.

Life is not easy nor can you disregard its plans.
It will remind you of its presence and its dance.
You have no choice but to tango.

Sticky needles poking my feet
a reminder I am running around
the forest in my favorite
par of socks.

A dream is nothing more than
a whisper of possibilities of
reality but untouchable.

I never wear socks
and the forest is
a dream away, this is
how I knew it was a dream.

I never stay away for long
for the clouds of reality
hang low above my head
it rains before I open
the door.

Dreams are nothing more
then wishing wells
full of unbelievable things.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

I could barely breathe
as love stole my kiss,
broke my heart
and shattered my dreams.

I once got lost
in loves quite stair,
wandered for year's,
wondered how I got there.

Soon I found myself
setting at a table,
watching love eat my heart.
With each bite
I can feel the crunch,
chewing deeply into my life.

ABCL :
Already Been Chewed Life.

Love stole my heart
and ate it for lunch.

© 2017 Amanda Shelton

Once upon a dream,
the stars fell like burning
embers bursting in the sky.

All my dreams flared like
a candles wick, my passion
sparked its whipping flame
to life.

These darker times bring
cold and hardness but
makes way for heated winds
and sunny fevers of summer.

Autumn never stays long,
winter seems to like it longer,
summer sits with spring
for awhile, before allowing
spring to turn everything
pink, green, and blue.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

A poet is an artist,
we paint with words and formats.

Our canvas is the internet,
parchment paper, a wall,
or fabric.

Our paints are pigmented with our
lives, slowly growing revealing
our strife.

With each line, we paint a grand design.

For a poet has an imagination
that has no secrets,
for us it's easy to be honest,
specially when the pen
is beaconing
for us to pick it up.

You can't be a poet and be shy,
for who will take notice
of your grand design if
you won't look them in the eye?

© 2018 By Amanda D Shelton

Upon the strings love plays
a song.

Upon lips love placed
a kiss, with gentle
touches and soft caresses.

The heart swoons upon the
rising of the moon, as
clouds part revealing two
beating hearts.

Love made the heart skip
a beat.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

I bleed out through my poetry.

Like little crime scenes
left behind after my
ex abused me.

The shards cuts deeper
because we loved so deeply
it soaked into the depths of
our beings until it became
a victim of lies of loves promises.

Love is not the perpetual blackness.

For it is the wilder of the sword
that cuts us deeper that
brought the perpetual blackness.

They are the damage and monster
that tries to eat what is left.

It is up to us to pickup the pen
and will ourselves above the ruins
and rebuild our lives to make room
for new relationships that grow into
possibilities for future love.

This too shall pass,
like the day into night,
rain into clear skies,
and tear soaked pillows
into fresh clean linens.

I wash my hands from my pain
by writing poetry.

©️ 2025 By Amanda Shelton

The cobwebs settled year’s ago,
the dust gathered on the table,
the placements are falling apart.

After decades of fringe and
grungy textures and dried
ink smeared on the walls my
poetry through the centuries.

My poetic heart is choking
on the ashes left behind.

My violin strings are fragile
and ready to break.

My love song flew away
on the wings of a Lark
looking for it’s heart.

This is my Vintage heart
wrapped in decay.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

One breath, one minute,
one smile, led to many
moments of heartache.

Breathe they say,
yet life's choking me.

Wait they say,
yet life's running and
I have only one chance
to catch up.

Be happy they say,
yet depression doesn't ask
for an invitation.

I was told whatever I do
will come back to me ten fold.

Yet it seems what everyone else
does is folding in on me because
I breathed, I waited, and
I smiled.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton

I was accused and abused,
I trusted a man who stole right from my hand.

Why?
Because I believed if someone says they love you
that means they have respect for you.
I am wrong,
love doesn't make someone trustworthy or a nice person.

Being honest happens
when someone is truthful,
Being nice happens
if someone is truly nice.

If you are a nice person deep inside you won't find it hard to be kind.
You won't have to work at it,
because it's been there the whole time.

I have been told by one person ever,
How he thinks I am horrible
and dishonest,
when I am too sick to even care
to be mean or cruel,
I never was a dishonest fool.
I never cared to lie,
I would rather work for my dime.

I have fought for survival,
I didn't get here by cheating
and taking what I didn't work for.  

He did,
He stole from me
and lied to my family and friends.
He didn't bat an eye,
He showed no morals.
Yet he was quick to blame me
telling me something is wrong
with my mind.
He never admitted to his crime's.

I feel hated and used,
horribly accused:
by a man who used I love you
until it hurt me.

Sadly I have to tell you,
I am ashamed of him.
I am ashamed that he treated me
in such a way.
I am ashamed that he judged me
poorly and that he judged me at all.

Love is not judgemental,
Love is not boastful,
Love doesn't care how old you are,
Love doesn't care what raise you are,
Love doesn't tell you lies,
Love doesn't spit in your eye,
Love is a feeling that transcends
all time.*

*© 2017 Amanda Shelton

Agile and sleek,
lurking in the deep.

Eyes of rarest gem's
shine in the dark of night.

Black and slim
scratch and sniff,
bathing in the sunbeams
of mornings wake.

Black lady undercover,
luxurious coat like
black velvet and the
softest fur.

Living in the window
seeking comfort with
glaring beauty, and green
eyes like emeralds shine.

My neighbors black cat
she's a beauty and a luxurious
display of expansive coat's
and gem's greener than the
oceans edge.

In perpetual darkness lives
the muse.

I am it's candle I lit up
the room and revealed
its beauty to the world.
To you...  

I am the light that
brings poetry to life,
I am like a shadow
I redirect the light
bringing you my beautiful
write.  

With gay delight my words
take flight, it sings for you
with love and life.

With a deluge of emotion
and ink this muse comes to life.

From, The Poet and Gothic Muse
I am weathered but still
standing strong.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

In my emotional womb is where
you were birthed.

You are trapped inside my
scared heart, in twined in
its scar tissue.

You tug on my heart sting's,
with your furry paws and
sharp little claws.

You're purs are divine
and purrfectly defined,
exactly what the doctor ordered.

You cuddle in my heart chamber
warm and soft, leaving your
hairballs like an expensive coat.

You linger on my clothes
furniture and blinds, you
use the litter box like you're
swimming at the beach.

At times you are smarter than
a two year old child
but don't care about a thing,
except for love and cuddles.

Don't forget about the food!

My morning toe nibbles and
rubbing against my legs.

You have a special meow,
that melts my heart away.

Half pur and trill multiple times
saying I love you one slow blink
at a time.

Ginger Beans is my favorite flavor.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

The perpetual kiss of the night,
embarrassed by its foggy
hug, its mystery is here to
entrance our needs for
beauty and the monsters
lurking beneath its misty banks.

Such things crawl around in the
underbelly of bleakness of pitch
black of the night. Waiting for
our eyes to close, to drift off to sleep.

The moon hangs low
in its bow, orbiting the mystery
we call night. Such love it has
for the sky in which it calls home.

Alone moon beam lost
within the mysterious night.

© 2019 By Amanda D Shelton

Silence is never a choice,
once your dead
even your memory screams.

A chilling breath worthy
to catch, a fearful mind
is a caldron of ghoulish
times.

A lost soul never truly dies,
for we all leave something behind.

Ghosts and you
there’s no difference
between the two.

You think you have a longer time,
sadly you don’t really know
when it’s your time.

Boo! Someday that will be you.

An EVP,
a video recording of a misty mass.

Who knows really?

**© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Heavy lungs,
lifting, shaking, quivering
with every inhale I take.

My lungs are tight,
painful and week but still
I try to breathe.

It's like breathing through
a very small straw
that closes ones it opens for
an intake of full air,
I am half way there.

This is not fair,
it's worse than breathing smoggy air.
If you have asthma
you know what I mean.

I am breaking like a deep diver gasping for air.

I am breathing like a fish out of water;
I am gasping, gulping for air.

Who knew breathing would be such
a labor of love and care?

Asthma steals my breath
everytime I take an inhale and exhale
of precious life giving air.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

I suffer because
I am aware of what
peace feels like.

If I never felt bad
I would never know
peace.

You can't learn if
you don't have
something to relate to.

Life is full of it,
sometimes I am knee deep
in pain, other times
I am happier than
sunshine pouring over
the land, you can see
my smile rising
like the sun.

In my darkest times
I have sat through
chaotic heartbeats,
breath stealing pain
but still I keep climbing
higher and higher.

No mountain is too high
for me to climb,
I can walk through thorns
and still I walk
until the end of the road
or when the line is
too thin to climb.

I am always willing to keep
going even when the mud dries
up, I am patient I will wait
for the rain to wash away the dirt
then I will rise again.

This is life,
a climb to the top
where the air is thin
and your back hurts
but it never truly ends.

We endure much pain
but I know we are strong enough
to get to the top.
You just have to imagine
what it would be like
and never give up.

Success is like having
a can of water but no
can opener, you have to
find another way
to open the can or get water.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

To relate to you,
I have to think with an abstract view.

I don’t have masks to cover myself
I am exactly what you see before you.

I have no boundaries for myself,
yet I respect that you do.

I am an honest fool,
who’s very much aware
of being the fool.

I have never lived my life
like you do,
though I have tried to,
I have learned early on;
no one can make me happy but I.

To be happy I had to let go
of my expectations,
Stop thinking everything should
move like I want it to.

I learned life isn’t about myself,
it’s about everything else,
how I live is how it moves.

I go left, life goes left too.

I might find it difficult to move
like you but I still do.
I just move with a twitch
in my step, dancing to the beat
of a different drum than you do.

I might not dance like you do
but I might dance better than you
because I am willing to learn.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

I walked my way through
heavy rain,
burned bridges along the way.

Through the years I suffered
pain, my bruises still raw
and hold the strife
I claim.

Over time things change
but still my soul remains
strong and bold.

I go my way burning bridges
along the way.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Burning memories,
with my heart.

Together we made
a love story.

Each turning page is
a mile in our lives.

The breeze pushes the
waves, pushing me closer
to the edge of my dreams.

I can barely see
the future but it’s
still there in its
frame. A bit blurred
and so far away.

I still remember your
gentle touch, your soft
kisses and hugs.

You are engraved in my
memory like perfumed
roses slowly dieing after
bring picked for viewing
pleasure.

These diluted dreams are
stitched upon my skin,
forever a stain, your memory
is sawn within my life,
and scratched within my book.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

Here I am, sitting on pens and needles
pain is my companion.

I wasn't born a renegade, or a knight
in shining armor but I was born a fighter.

All these years have passed behind me,
I am turning fourty two soon
as I keep walking forward
looking behind me.

My footprints are a reminder
how far I've gone and the farther
I plan to go.

My memories follow into
the shallow waters of my life.

I keep going forward watching the
sun rise and fall, while the moon
peeks for a better view.

Sometimes I dip into the deeper parts
of myself, I tug on the possibilities of
my creativity and I write what I see.

I feel like I am falling but in reality
I am sitting still.

Anxiety is a struggle but here I am free
as I release my stress through poetry.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Shadows lurk far beyond the light,
where monsters live in after life.

Larger than life, with fangs
red eyes, fire burns deep,
their breath of dust and past.
Nothing is left of the original
us.

We are nothing but dust in the wind,
blown until methods become very real.
A ghost floats where life
hardened from past lives.
Together forever but not so true.
He who came from blood and sweet,
lives for morn but always torn
between light and death.

Heart beats nomore,
but love still flows.

Lay me down under the stone,
engraved with who I once was,
but never again.

Will you miss me when I have flown?

You keep returning to my stone,
yet no breath will I choke,
for all I breath is dirt.

I regret my death.

You wonder if the vampire
regrets it’s strife,
as if they relive their sins
for the rest of their eternal life.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

From within the cold frozen earth
a monster stirs digging with its
finger nails it slowly rises from
the grave.

The stone is cracked and tilted
to the side, the ground is hard
and unkept.

Others are here too,
but died long ago.

This one is a vampire,
a old monster of folklore
and nightmares.

There’s no lingering breath,
no beating heart to remind us
of its life.

For a sinful fool they were in life,
a diseased greedy and
disrespectful soul never dies.

Cursed to suffer and crave
the blood of the living,
the vampire came to take
what they desire.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Can you feel the change?
Can you see the ripples
rushing like buckets of rain?

We are a growing raise,
reaching for the stars,
casting ourselves across
the vastness of space.

We are dying to see,
to find life
beyond the oceans
and seas.

We yearn for truth
yet we lie to ourselves.

We are blinded by our want's,
by our need for more.

We are a spoiled raise,
running at a slower pace.

We need to open our eyes
and start to pray,
that Jesus is on his way.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Unseen by many
but I am not blind.

A ghost is of course
nothing but a nick in time,
a wound left behind
by a life birthed
from water and blood.

Its scares can be seen
if only you opened your mind
to the possibility.

I see what most can't
because I can imagine the possibilities.*

*© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Painful bricks hold down
my life, growing heavy over time,
adding 1 by 1.

It’s the story of my life,
my body hurts and
grinds upon the stone
sharpening my pain.

Bone and flesh slowly burns,
barring me in its ashes
and strife. (Sufacating)

My life once was light and airy,
after pain moved in, I became
allergic to this place.

Itching, burning, chains tightly
wound around my throat, stealing
my breath as I choke on its rine.
(I don’t even smoke).

This distribution of pain,
a process of making,
these products are killing me slowly.

Life decided to take the knife
and slice away at its own byproduct,
leaving it’s waste for me to eat.
(It all comes out the same).

Pain a byproduct of illness and decay.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

It knocks upon my right side of my head,
with a grip of pain deeper than my grave.

It grabs me by the eyeball
scratching and pulling.

It brings its claws of vice,
pokers of searing agany
to scorch my nerves causing
my body to quiver and quake.

My screams are silent,
My agany glooms while doom
consumes everything with pain.

My painful reality looms over
my life, waiting in the dark
to strike.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

Upon my life you
assume I’ll fight,
how ignorant are you?

You think you are so ugly
you’ve got to express it
through your broken
ego?

Only a bully would be
so shameless, a troll
wants nothing but attention,
the best way to stop it
is ban it before they
say anything else.

Don’t take the trolls
seriously, their just
jealous and ashamed of
their own selves they
have enough problems.

It’s not about you.

Trolls, this is for you…

How low is your IQ?
You can’t relate to others?
Oh wow! you know that
makes you the true problem.

When you’re willing to
dish out the trash you
should be willing to
take it out. We have
trashcans for a reason
you ugly fool.

If you don’t like something
I do, why do you even care
about what I do when you
have a life too?

You’re wasting your life
by waiting for the tolls
to pay out, for one day
it will run out and You
will pay for such evil ways.

So don’t pay the trolls
ban them instead, throw
away all the ugly hate
learn to love yourself
and stop worrying about
everyone else.

Acceptance is the key
to success and prosperity.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

Shameful liars can't look truth in the eyes for the truth burns their lying eyes with guilt.

A liar avoids eye contact because
they are afraid people can see their lies and eyes reflect the truth.

A shameless liar stairs truth in the eyes because they don't care if it burns.

They see with vampire eyes, a soul sucker, a narcissistic liar, a prideful monster, a heartless moocher brings fly's to the table.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Weathered Poetry

THE SHADY ROSE

"You can never cover up the truth with a lie, but you can cover up a lie by telling the truth. It's simple, you don't lie from the beginning."

I told my brother this when I was seven years old because I was tired of him getting in trouble.
_________

By Amanda Shelton

To Be Shady Like You*

You might like it if I was shady like you, I’d become something more than just your shadow. My stem will no longer be soft and pliable, and my thorns will be hardened and ruthless.

No longer am I nothing but a shadow. My petals have fallen to the cold Earth. My perfume has faded, my stem bent from the weight of time. Though year’s have past, few forgot my hue and glow. Nothing is lift but my plot. I am more than just a shady rose, I am a blooming daisy. You are the shady rose, holding secrets under your rooted bed, slowly choking any flowers that choose to *** themselves close to your roots. I got use to being choked, my roots strengthened and I became stubborn. I will never be shady like you. I chose to make my plot miles away from the shallow tree’s, giving you your spot amungest the shady roses.

It’s a crime if I didn’t take the time
to share my poetry.

These pages are a testimony
of my life,
I am the poems I write.

I suffer through but
I also write the truth,
I am happy and I write for you.

I am a poetic format waiting
to be written, waiting for my
debut.

Come over here
and I will write for you.

© 2018 By Amanda D Shelton

Do you dare to love a broken heart?

Love me but love me not if
you want to change who and
what I am.

For happiness is in the here
and now, to accept me for me
and you for you.

That's true love.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

“We are like a drop of water in a large pond. The ripples we make effect the surface as so we effect reality.”

– By Amanda Shelton