I had a lucid dream last night.

I dreamt I was a star,
I dropped upon the earth
scattered into millions
of pieces.

From my shattered pieces
I soaked into the dirt
and from my tears of sorrow
I birthed a black rose.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Upon my sorrows you
came and sat, you stole
my heart and played your
evil games.

You lied straight to my face
with your half baked smile.

You kissed my cheeks
but left me with tears
and burning pain.

You said sorry after
breaking my heart once
again. 1,2,3 and again!
You go at me with your
whip of lies.

After all these years
seems forever, you still
make the same excuses
and never admit to causing
the damages.

All I hear from you
Okay,
ok,
yeah,
you're right,
I know...
Nothing more.
So so.

But never an action do you
stain, after all your fictional
claims of being an honest man
you haven't changed.

Upon my broken heart
your memory is stained,
forever a scare you left
behind your broken shame
for me to bandage up
and try to heal.

Only you can stop this pain,
its a personal journey
of self discovery upon
the road to recovery.

I've set up the paths you need,
I've given you a beacon
a guide to the right decision.

That's all I can do,
my love.

Addiction is never a clean
road, it's full of damaged
lives and suffering.

The road to recovery is full of
scares that are healing, bruised
lives that are dealing.

In the beginning it's rocky
and dangerous, over time
you can learn how to
heal and make a healthier
life decision.

Upon the rays of God
you will find peace of mind
but only if you invite him
in, open your door and windows
to his grace and mercy
allow God to replace the addictions and your bad decisions.

All I desire is for
you to be healthy and
make good decisions.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the wings of darkness
you flew into the view
of my dreams.

There you sat, stealing my breathe.

Slowly silence grew within
my mind, as your wings in folded
my visions of old dreams
they faded into memories.

Like silent rain drops
my dreams fell, as they froze
upon my blue lips, I released
one last gasp of air, it came
like a cold breeze.

This was the day my dreams
died, faded forever never
again will I play within it’s
fields and clover.

For even dreams have to say
fair well.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

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 can be multiple things
to save me,
I can be the fly on the wall,
I can be my shadow,
I can be a 360 degree view
of my reality.

Abuse built me, my youth
died before it had time to
breathe and I broke free.

Alice walked through the
looking glass and I, I broke
through the mirror shattering
into millions of possibilities
and became the shard's of glass.

I became a poem, line by line
I've laid down my life,
a sacrifice for the digital age.

I become the fly when
I saw you and you flew
into my imagination
and grew into a beautiful
creation.

I am a fly on the wall with
a unique view of you.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton

I was a fool, always searching
for the one but none were
as blind as me.

Amongst the roses are the
thorns, and the weeds lay
beneath they like to choke
everything.

I was a fool, for love hit me,
tripped me and played my
heartstrings like a fiddle.

Foolish me, always searching
for the one but none were
as blind as me.

I once laid beneath the roses
as the bush slowly wrapped
itself around my heart stabbed
me deep in the back with its
thorns, as I hydrated it's roots
with my blood it drank my pain
and stole my gain.

Love fooled me, it was beautiful
in the beginning.

Until it revealed itself,
a rose it was not and
it mistaken-ed me for
a ****.

A fool I was, always searching
for the one but none were as
foolish as me, love blinded me
with its promises and false
reality.

Loves no dream, its no
magical spell or the greatest
most amazing thing ever.

Love is tragic, painful and
disastrous its painfully
damaging heartbreaking
and it causes scars.

Love is powerful because
its the most beautiful,
confusing disaster
you will ever experience.

Its the scars that define your
strength after a heartbreak,
what bites you can make you
stronger and smarter it can
teach you how to find true love.

We all are fools to love,
the first heartbreak is
the deepest pain and
leaves the biggest scar.

To guard your heart is the most
important thing, don't give it to
just anyone.

Find someone who enjoys life
with you and encourages you
to be your best and holds
your hand when you need
support. Also, remember to be
patient and kind.

Love is attracted to kindness
it finds it beautiful and amazing.

Love is inside of you,
its part of us all.

Love is success and acceptance,
it helps build societies.

A fool in love is a fools lesson.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton

When I was younger I flew
the koop, no cage could keep
me from flying this *****
grave of doom.

Life came to make friends
with me, I agreed to stay.

It was great until the storm came,
it washed away the sunshine,
it drowned my mind in love
and pain, it stole my
jars of broken hearts,
it broke my wings and forced
me down, my chair became
the cage now I’m back to
being a slave to my health.

That’s life, you live and die,
you suffer and fly, you climb
mountains, float down rivers
and lakes, you surfe the
biggest waves.

In the end we end up in
the grave.

Don’t forget to breathe,
take longer breaths,
just take your time;
you’ve got unknown
amounts of time.

This asthma induced disease
we call life has no insurance
or warranty.

So live well and you won’t
go to bed regretting your
dreams. Don’t cover yourself
with the dirt from the roads
you’ve built.  Instead let go
of all regret go to your dirt
bed clean.

©️ 2020 By Amanda Shelton

"If only I were a toad,
I would be in heaven living on a lilypad."

**© By Amanda D Shelton

Donald Trump, is that one pumpkin that sits in the middle of the porch after Halloween rotting and stinking like black mold that won’t move. He’s grown into the foundation of the house and now the house is abandoned and deemed haunted by passed Donald Trump’s failures. Now that’s spooky!

Boo! The ghost of Donald Trump’s passed has come to haunt this post.

If you say pumpkin head three times and turn around each time, while holding a pumpkin looking in a bathroom mirror, Donald Trump will appear and start ranting about how he won the election. To make him leave you have to destroy the pumpkin while saying Donald Trump is a pumpkin head three times at the end say loser Trump leave.

Adieu.

Like pebbles thrown into the water, we cause ripples in the universe that birthed us.

Upon the beach we are amongst other pebbles that have collided with the shore.

We are weathered and blown, scars are visible and wrinkles are experiences eched into our skin.

On a breath and a heartbeat we came naked into this world, and we leave the same but we leave behind our memories and footprints from our human experience.

Bones and hair are laying below the stones.

We live, grow, and die.

Fair will, until the end.

We will meet again at the gates of the heavenly saints. Amen...

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the oceans of my mind
I am guided by its tide,
it pushes me to the shore.

God uses me to guide others
who are willing to listen.

I was blessed with provision,
its a beacon that grows
upon my faith.

Like a candle lit in my window
I am always seated at the table,
I am waiting for his return.

It’s your decision if you
follow the light, it’s your
choice if you believe in
the power of the LORD.

As for me, I am faithful
I will follow God’s son
who is in heaven waiting
for us.

Jesus Christ is the candle
he lights the path and
shows you his scares,
proving his status is
with the heavenly father.

I cary a gift and I share
parts of it with you all.

It’s a simple gift of
understanding and love.

May my prayers be a rock
for a stronger foundation
for my beautiful nation.

God bless you all.

Aman!

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

From the gaping wounds I escape,
from its painful thrubs I leap,
relief is found in formatted sentences
and bleeding ink I smudged upon these pages.

For you to leave this page empty and
confused is to know I failed
to write a good poem.

It takes a master to draw you
in, it takes skills to paint
with words like an artist
paints with brushes.

Years of research and experience,
builds a masterful piece of work
and expressions.

Time dosen’t heal alone,
it needs help along the way.

Line by line,
slowly I build my rhyme,
it grows like a flower slowly
blooming into a beautiful tapestry;
complex and designed by a poetic
mind.

My threads are heavy, easy to read
and to imagine my story.

The simplest words and softest lines,
can build a tapestry so beautiul it
burns in your mind for a long time.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

I would give you 0* if it was
possible.

This isn't a game it's a
advertisement for your wallet.

There's no rewards.

Everything is about advertisment
and we get stuff.

Playing the game doesn't reward
it's another ad break
even after watching an ad
for double the rewards.

Still no rewards just next level
after watching another ad.

Ad, ad, ad, ad, ad and
I lost my sanity after
the third ad.

Ad me on the no more
I'm uninstalling this
sanity theft it's another ad!

Awwwwwwwww!
Please spare my sanity.

Now I am hallucinating ad's
I dream about ad's,
I eat ad's,
I drink ad's.

Ad's ad's ad's!

Now I am writing a poem about ad's.

Thanks Google!

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Amongst the grass I am like
a dew drop, shinny and free
I glitz and bling.

Amongst the beaches I am a pebble, I grind and squeek, I ride the tides and suff the turf.

Amongst the stars I am a speck
of dust, I came from unknown,
I bring knowledge and time.

Amongst the trees I am a mushroom, I am small but powerful, my roots are strong
I am part of a system of life.

Amongst the fish I am a shrimp,
I am small but mighty and brave.

Amongst the people I might seem
week but I can make you think,
my poetry is deep and I will
make you dig deeper into the
possibilities.

Amongst the horses I am a unicorn, I am rare and bright,
I am creative and brave. You'll never forget me.

Amongst the little things I can seem larger than life. I wear my heart on my sleeve and my mind
is open to possibilities.

I am autistic.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

I a dying rose, I have nothing
but perfumed words.

I a nobody, I have nothing
but poetry.

I a shadow, I have nobody
but myself beside me.

I a lingering sigh, I have but one
chance one life to do my best.

I am living on a breath, a wind that
blew from the west and settled
on your screen through poetry,
line by line I lay down my life.

I am like a seed, not like the rest
rooted in sand I started out half
sunk but grew stronger and
deeper reaching for the rocks
to build a stable foundation.

Here I rise, I shine and
grind the keyboard until
it lags.

Sometimes spell check thinks
I'm British French and Spanish,
once it predicted Romanian
was my first language.
What happened to English?

I'm white but am I really?

If you cut me do I bleed
white or blood? I swear
I am human.

I don't think my keyboard cares
it just sits and stares tries to
predict but fails.

Now I am a poet with broken English
not by choice but by design of
spell check, my skin is really
partly translucent.

Here I bleed poetry and prose spill
from my fingertips like a wizard
blowing smoke like a dragon.

Here you come to witness my strum,
my tugging and pulling brings you
closer into my cave of batty gloom,
that I resurrect from the deepest
parts of my mind.

Mute I am.
I arm myself with deeper meaning
to express myself, otherwise
I am silent and scared over communicate and second
guess myself.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

I will give Trump an award. He gets the most ******* MAGA head alive award. The trophy is Trump’s ego blown up head bobbing, you can hear the whistling wind breezing through his ears and his gapping mouth oozes toxic waste. Cheeto dust is his devilish glow. The number of crimes he committed is on his forehead in big bold dark orange letters as well his lies.

For the Trumpians I’ll toot your horn Toot Toot! Go back to hell. Donald J Trump is a recipe for Cheeto dust. The devil is calling for his son Donald J Trump, it’s time for his firey bath. He’s all Cheeto dust no sense. Even his ashes have a devilish orange glow. I wonder if his mother was aware she gave birth to a Cheeto. She will when he goes to hell on judgement day. **** to the Cheeto Messiah and his minion Cheeto worshipers. I'm pretty sure they will test the bath fire first, than Trump follows because they lied it's not Cheeto dust for his tan.

Misty fog rolling in
from the Sea, upon its
frozen kiss I cultivate
my heart.

I fought for love
upon the rolling waves
of chaos and change.

I fought decay as
rot stole my true
loves kiss with a
breath of ash, as
my wish crashed
to the bottom of
emptiness.

Love found your lips
riding on the Sea
in a lovers ship.

Our souls were caught
tossing and turning
over and over again
upon the waves of chaos,
bold and brave just
the two of us.

Anitthis-death stole my
wish, love rose from the
ashes.

Only to fall again
for one last fight,
for one last stand,
for one last kiss.

Beyond the nightly
mist, our ship rides
into the night forever
together lovers
under cover of the
darkened sky’s
star crossed lovers ride.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

Amunst the books I am most comfortable
for paper and ink never judges me.

It takes me to possibilities of
vast knowledge and brings me to a
special journey to the center of
my imagination.

I fought battles with bat people and
Joan Of Arc. I swam in alien oceans
and flew with fleet’s of flying fish
that came from my imagination leaping
forth from the depths of the pages.

I wrote some of these stories.

Books have secrets waiting to be
discovered you just have to get
passed the cover.

My ability to write poetry
brought me to the edge of
my creativity.

My poetic plot’s are hydrated
by my inspiration and muse books
upon books.

I’ve got hundreds piled inside
my vast memory bank.

I have no need to make space
for my brain is wired differently.

Reading is good practice for writing,
for a good writer can dissect how
another writer creates their own plots.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

Avoid of me,
yet it spills forth from my poetry.

Each letter is formed from
my wicked mind,
whipping and lashing
at your growing need for more.

I write poetry,
not to entertain you
but to watch you ask for more.

I a minion to my pen,
scratch and smudge my ink across
your computers screen.

Fingerprints of a poet,
are not well deserved,
bypassed by you
for one word can do.

A poet I am,
a painter of word’s,
an entertainer of sorts.

I just love playing with my word’s.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Shine on me,
love me for me,
like a love poem,
construct my vision
with philosophy.

Kiss my poetic mind
with your ideas and
metaphors, construct
my lines with ink and quill,
bring the paper so I don’t
spill my poems onto the floor.

I am constructed with poetic
smudges from past memories
faded not by time, for I live
forever upon these pages.

This is a poetic death
of sorts but my memory
lives on through
smudges and marks.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the hot beams of sunlight
I bring my heart as the dawn
beckons me to your arms.

I am reminded of your memory
as mornings first breathe
is taken upon my senses it
rises as I awaken.

That like a seed
love grows and roots
itself upon our bed
of hearts building
a plot for the future.

The roots grow stronger
with the struggles and
adventures we experience
together.

Upon loves flight we are its capulets
of two star crossed lovers.

A poetic love like no other.

© 2020 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

Within my feverish dreams
lives passed ink smears,
designed by my scar’s.

My blood is the ink,
my passion is the needle
tattooing heartache and
suffering upon this digital
skin.

This grave I’m digging
is of my own design.

Watch me climb higher and
higher! Line by line…

The ghosts pound upon this post,
screaming in silence as I stitch
my design.

With a tear falling down my face
and a whisper from my dreams,
I write this poem.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

I am like a cloud,
I move with the wind,
I cry when I am gray.

I am like the spring,
I bloom for the seasons,
I guide life into my womb,
I bring rain to the river's and brooke's,
I bring bird's to build their nests,
I bring the beast's out into the fields.

Quite I am,
waiting for the change.

I am a ghost
reaching for the post,
seeking purpose and meaning.

I am a poet,
growing my plots,
leaving you my written legacy,
upon my poetic format
I smear my ink on these pages.

**© By Amanda D Shelton

Me: Don’t you come any closer!

I am warning you!

Please don’t come over, please.

I am trying, I am calm.

Don’t come back please!

I don’t like you.

Your horrible.

I hate you, your a monster.

Why are you here?

How do I stop you?

Go away!

Ouch! I am crying and oozing.
I want to bang my head into
the wall. I can’t set still.

It hurts so bad.

Cluster headache: Hahaha! Geer!
I bite you and stabe you in the eye.

You can’t stop me!!!

I will be back, you won’t see me coming.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

To dream is to see the impossible become possible
by reaching for the impossible.

Upon the mornings breathe
I rose to the green grass
and dew shimmering through
my dreams and I woke to
the possibilities.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton

Crash into me, brush aside your wasted time, I have a rhythm for your mind.

I’ve been ******* on a dime, I like it’s flavor, I know I am odd.

Can you ******* rythme, can you feel it’s metal zinging on your mind?

I’ve been working on this for some time, working up line by line building the ****** to engage your brain dragging you deep into my mind.

This is the depth of my existence, the ink bleeds from my arteries. Poetry is what I leave behind, my missy floods of expression.

Your left swimming in my pools of formatted creations, passion brings you to my surface.

I zing upon your mind, the taste is like metal, cool and you climb my mountains of rhymes. I’ll catch you if you fall, my rhythm catchs everything.

This rolls so easily off the tip of my tongue, like a cool breath exhaled with my rythme following behind. I plant my poetic kiss upon this page for you to consume.

Thanks for stopping by.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

My heart like porcelain,
break's fragile and bruised
in between your fingers
as you tightened your grip.

It got tighter each passing year,
one,
two,
three,
four,
five,
six,
seven.

The pieces lay before you,
all you did was watch.

As my heart spilt its blood
and suffering soaking
the floor.

The stain is still
and unchangeable,
seems monstrously eternal.

The depression is deep,
deeper still is the blood
I sacrificed and it is left
pulsating with pain and
unfading memories
of you.

The anxiety you caused
is the worst part.

Waking to your shadow,
hovering over me laughing
and playing games with my
life.

The damages you caused are
long lasting.

I have a choice, to be a victim
or to survive without you.

You are abuse, you are ruin,
you are a broken memory always
running away with my heart.

You taught me how to be afraid,
how to guard my heart and life.

I shouldn't have to protect myself from love,
oh no love is supposed to be
free acceptance and long lasting.

You definitely are long lasting,
you are bruises on my life,
gray eyes that once were blue
oceans of longing on deep nights
of kisses and soft caress.

Now, you're kisses turned to
ashes upon my tongue,
you are only a distant memory
of healing wounds.

A scar!

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Rising slowly below the sun,
the heat burns me but still
I run.

My heart is beating loudly
to the drums, life is crazy
we all are on the run.

Working to ash and bone,
grinding flesh and burning
slow.

Work like thefts we’ve got
to reap what we sew or
die on the hamsters wheel
we all are forced to run.

Drinking sweat and blood,
losing sanity to the flood.

Humanity is digging fast,
not fast enough to get through
the mud, the drought is faster
its ******* up all the revenue.

Run bunny run, the hole is
closing fast, you better hurry
before the sun devours everyone.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

The rose's grew thorns
deep in my heart,
leaving wounds.

Fear choked my roots,
as my rose's wither
and rot.

Within the shadows of
my dreams lives the ghosts
of perfumed memories of you.

It grew teeth and black,
it grabs me as I fall asleep.

You're memories are monstrous
and causes anxiety to pool
inside of me, as I feel like
I am drowning within its
emotional tides.

There you left me to die,
teasing me with outreached
arms but you gave me nothing
but smoke.

I am withered from the
storm of you beating
and weathering my heart
like shivering leaf's
in winter, I am left
in the cold.

You're a gaping wound
in my side, a thorn that
keeps stabbing me.

You are PTSD.

©️ 2023 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

Upon the rising steam
carries my allergies,
relieving my lungs
from the sticky junk.

Breathing killed my
passion for running,
stealing my energy like
a vampire steals blood
from the living.

Asthmatic I am,
I suffer because I am
allergic to the breath
of life.

The air outside attacks
me with no remorse or
thoughts of my life.

Asthma is a deadly disease,
it steals my breath and
chokes me when I least
expect it to strike.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

The shadow's march on
through the night,
as the moon slowly moved on,
and the dawn stole the night.

**© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the beams of light
the stars dance with such
delight.

As the moon swoons and
bows he wipes his dusty
brow, shakes is luner *****
for the people on the Earth's
ground.

The stars wink and pass by
in a trail of gas and carbon.

A beautiful sight to behold,
as wonder twinkles in each
eye.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

A skunk is eating the Tweety.

Here's a fair well to Twitter.

May the tweety live on in our
memories.

Tweet tweet Twitter.

You lost your wings when you lost
your mind to the mindless twitter
streams from crazy people.

No one saw your demise.

No one thought you'd fall so hard.

Poor Twitter drowning slowly
in the arms of a greedy narcissist
with shady eyes, and no morals to
stand his ground.

Elon Musk smells like a nasty skunk.

He shot Twitter between the eyes
and laugh's while making money
off his lies and Twitters demise.
I doubt he enjoyed every bite he took
as he slowly devoured it's bones
and feathers. He probably coughed
up the pieces he couldn't disgust
like an owl.

Aduie Twitter, it's been a fun ride.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton