I love the winter,
cold, and calm.

Slowly life grows strong
and forgets about the summer
sun.

I too become somber, deep,
calm, and still; as the weather
blow's me a chilling kiss.

I ponder deeply,
upon the mornings dawning,
while I drink my coffee.

The sky turns gray, clouds
look like soaking cotton *****
heavy with rain.

I can smell the seasons change,
wafting through the air,
reminding me of past gatherings of
my family and friends.

The food is heavier, and full felling
when the holidays are near.

I love the colder weather,
I am always prepared for the cooler
air.

Ode to winter, and it's
beautiful white blankets
of snow, hot chocolate,
and forgotten treditions
from long ago.



**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

You made me bring a bag boy,
you were such a drag boy.

You forgot to grow into
a man boy, you hit 30
and you passed go awhile ago
but you didn’t collect the $200
before you stole my heart boy,
now your broke and
I am beating bleeding
on the floor boy.

You made me bring a bag boy,
you broke my back all for
a drag boy.

You’re no man, you’re a drag
in a bag boy.

The smudges you left behind are
following my shadow like
a drag boy.

Now I am fighting your ghost.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Secrets are oozing from the
bowels of the earth, she quakes
and shakes her ***** for your
viewing.

Watch her take a bite from your
life, she’s older than your
great great great grandparents.

Her womb grew for us, opening
wide devouring those who die.

She’s got six feet
long legs, a chest bigger
than mount Everest, and
hair as long as the
Nile River.

Her depths are the deepest,
her valleys dip deeper too,
her girth is wide and she
has sapphire eyes and
diamonds grow from her thighs.

She’s screaming for help,
but no one hears her cries,
for you’re all blind and deaf,
it’s a merciful whisper burning
steady and fast through out the night.

She slowly takes her last breath,
releasing a deadly ghost from
her past.

Oh Corona, oh Corona
shall we sing you a song
a proper fair well?

Oh Corona, oh Corona you’ve
over stayed your welcome,
no one invited your virus
or your dime lit eyes.

Such secrets came free
as the sunsets upon your
ocean eyes, the beams
carry a dream of peace
and love. It’s up to us
if we do her right.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the falling rain
lives my heart,
with the broken beams
of light pain fades away,
with a passing breeze
the clouds depart
revealing your face.

Oh love, how I miss you.
Let me remind you
I will never forget you
and your forget me not kisses
and embraces.

Love lasts as long as you
embrace its memory.

Far from this place once lived
two lonely hearts, between
the empty spaces they
collided like two falling stars,
filling every inch with
passion and beating heartstrings
playing their song.

You never fade;
you forever live within
the empty spaces between
light and dark, for
you are a brightening star.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Oh Spring,
with your dew drop lips
you beacon me to lookest
down through the clear windows
of morning, I watched as you turn
your angel eyes upon our western
skies, which in full spectrum
the round body of the sun
approaches with her burning *****.

Oh Spring,
the Earth show’s
her blushing cheeks,
and the Lord listens
to our prayers with patience.

The Valleys below;
with green meadows the
sun is peeking through
as the trees are longing
for the light, are turning
up their newly grown leafs.

Up to your bright pavilions
I can imagine the Angles singing
for your coming. They rise to the
occasion, like roses in bloom.

Let your beautiful sun soaked
rays visit Earths clime!
Come over the eastern hills,
until morning turns to nigh.

Let her winds kiss your
perfumed garments;
allow Earth to taste the
morning dew and evening rain;
scatter your richness upon
our barren lands that mourn for
greener pastures.

Oh Spring,
the forthcoming of your fairness
and soft touch's; pour your soft
kisses on the Earth’s surface;
and put your golden crown
upon her languish’d brow,
Whose modest tresses are bound
up for those who fell in love
with your blushing gown.

Oh Spring,
how I waited patiently
for your coming,
you have never forsaken me.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

Am I getting old?

Hear my poet and watch me show it.

I cough instead of scream
because I have asthma.

I wake up with a twitch in my back
and a creak in my knees.

I'm drowning in my womanhood
and forgotten dreams.

I am 41 ready for my 50's.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Dancing amongst the stars
my soul flew like a blooming
moon searching for you.

I got pulled into your
orbit, now I am like a
satellite flying around
your heart being pulled
by an invisible string.

Star cross lover
with lazer lips
and eyes only for me,
like the bluest sky’s
and you shine only for me.

I am your orbital lover
waiting for your reply,
the ship awaits, my dear.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Between the times we are together
and apart my heart waits patiently
but eager for your returning.

Time is like a shadow,
I can't see it but I know it's there,
our love can seem the same.

Like unforgiving waves
the destination is always the same,
I crash upon your shores,
like a storm you crash into mine.

We need not climb alone,
for we've got a forever home
inside each other's arms.

Love is like a stone,
it can seem hard at times,
but it takes thousands of years
to degrade.
Our love is the same.

**© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Upon my pillow I left
my sorrows, soaked with
tears my dreams drown
my pain.

As the shadows lengthen
and slowly steals the light
I lit my candle as a reminder
of the burning passion
we have for each other.

We are never too far apart,
for the strings attached to
our hearts fell the spaces
between us with
beautiful music.

As the sun sets upon
the night, each star that winks
is a reminder of our love
we have for each other.

Your memory never fades,
for our hearts are rooted
deeply in loves chasm.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Oh how much I love you.

Upon the rays of the
burning sun you came,
you crashed into my chasm
of darkly lit rooms
and lit up the dark
like the candle you are.

You brought me a river of
love and change, you reminded
me I will never be alone again.

You are as a cloud to my rain,
you are a wick for my flame,
you are the missing piece
to my puzzle, you are
the breeze to my calmness
and weaves.

You cary me in the safety
of your arms, you keep me
dry upon the falling of
the rain.

You are my love.
My best friend till the end,
my true love.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

I am made of nervous needles,
fever's, and chills, my goal is to
cause discomfort, and sickness.

I am chronic, needless, and sometimes
useless, and wasted time.

I communicate with neurons,
and cell's, causing nervousness,
and spell's.

I am pain.

**© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

The shadows can't hide my pain,
in the still of the night you came.

This burning turns into
a nightmare, I am running from
the blazing flames of pain.

I have no time to rest,
I have no time to play,
I have no time to think,
I have only pain.

Very rarely do I get a break,
this life is like a 24 hour job,
I always have to be ready to fight,
I am always ready to go.

This pain takes me under
pulling me under toe,
title wave after title wave
I am gasping for air.

Slowly getting heavy,
with each passing moment,
this pain sits upon my chest
trying to break what I have left.

Still I live,
still I give,
still I keep breathing through
the painful waves that try to steal
my well to live.

Nothing can steal my well to live,
for it grows stronger with
every push and shove,
I just know when to give
and when to pause.

This painful life I live.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Like a rooted tree
I am firmly grounded
upon this life I was
given.

Sometimes it can feel like
a flood that’s trying
to devour me. Its hands
grip around my neck
choking me as I loose
my breath.

Pain settles beside me
it steals my time.

This struggle is like
painful strings pulling
on me, as if I were
its puppet, moving me
when I least expect it.

It swells and dwells
deep within my life,
it waited until I was
happy to step out
of the shadows.

It’s a painful breath,
exhale after exhale
I am left chocking
on its smog.

Painful breath,
my life was devoured
by its fumes.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

I was born in a painful
suit of arms.

I built my own weapons,
by using my ability to
write and draw to share
my struggles.

With a pencil in one hand
and strife in the other,
I fight, I write, I draw.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

The pain of love,
the pain of living,
is something to bare.

I am made of flesh and blood,
my bones bare witness
to my life.

I work hard to live hard,
I breathe, and think,
I collide with time as if
I am its catalyst.

I can move but not freely,
for I am held down by choices.

Love has broken my every heartbeat,
with each thud
it pump’s through me,
like tiny needles
running through my veins,
pocking my every move.

Thud! Thud! Thud!
Each breath I take
is another painful
memory of you.
Love… Painful You!*

*© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

I suffer from chronic illnesses,
it's a lonely path sometimes.

No one can see my pain,
it's like a bent shadow of myself.

Avoid of empathy, compassion
and vice, pain doesn't care about
your life, or your plans.

Pain separates us by it's great
chasm between nerve endings
and it's laboured breathe.

Like a thread, pain vibrates
from one end to another
with little resistance.

It comes uninvited for
pain is no one's friend.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

The pain I suffer is great
but my fight is stronger than
the pain.

My nerves are damaged beyond
repair but I still find the
will to keep breathing.

It’s not easy my friends,
pain is exhausting and
heavy.

It feels like I am burning
itching and hot pokers are
stabbing me.

My nose is running and I sneeze
more often, mucus builds up with
a scratchy throat.

I don’t have a cold or flu,
its just how my body reacts.

Doctor’s don’t know what to do,
they are learning too.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

I am a Poet,
I have the ability to
paint images with words
and formats.

I curl your mind onto a window sill,
with my wordy tongue I bring
you stories and rhythm
as I play my poetic drums;
I help you to relate to
my words and actions
through word play
and dancing format (poetry).

You are important to me,
you are my fans
and my inspiration for
improvement.

I drum, drum, drum as
I strum, strum, strum
my poetic tongue,
pulling at your mind
as I play my rhythm
a string of rhymes
playing with my poetic chimes.

I am a Poet.

© 2018 By Amanda D Shelton

Aww, look at all of the time.

Life wasn’t drawn with
black jagged lines.

Life was painted
with abstract scenes
and vivid dreams.

Reality is food for thought,
imagine going to a painters
***, you swim around in its
vivid colors and you are
of brush strokes left behind
by the painters grind.

You dry slowly, over time
you crack and peel,
turn yellow and brown.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

I am made from scars and a broken heart,
shattered promises forgotten like
shards of glass from the past, scattered
across the expansion of time.

We all are created with stars in are
DNA, a dusty and ****** design
from the mind of the great divine.
The universe breathes because we
can imagine it.

We are meant to grow and die,
to choose our paths but some
are not so blessed, we have
no freedom like the rest.

My path is not my own,
for I was born to be just
steal but flowing like a river
of words, a poet, an emotional
carpet for everyone to use.

These are my designs, my
contribution to this existence.

Here I am not stagnant, but I can fly,
sail, run, jump, claim, dive, and
shine. Poetry is my path to freedom.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton

Upon words truth can fly,
as so many others spit out lie’s.
Like dragons protecting their
egos, they drink the views
and soak up the fire like it’s
their only desire.

On the edge of society live
the mad and insane, the internet
is not to blame. People control the
platform on which we stand today.

Our future depends on if we can change
those who claim to want to rule
this board game of life.

If we fail we still have to fight.

Freedom is our goal, for our brothers and sisters fought mightily and bravely for our future.

It is important to stand strong as
a community.

Peace starts with one word, love.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

Like a vine on the wall
I lingered far too long.

Aw a simple rose.

Can you smell the perfume?
It’s from slow decay
as the roses wither away.

Bloom, grow, wither
the life of a flower
so simple, so lovely.

A poet knows them well,
They inspired many with
their perfumed memories,
they linger on through poety.

The rose always in thought,
always quiet but never
silent, for you are reminded
by their perfume.

The roses inspired my
spark, it lit my wick
as I burn my reserve.
I have a long lasting
desire to write poetry.

The roses, I ponder
in rows of formatted
prose they love to grow
on my poetic tongue.
I cultivate them with
my desire to plant
my poetic seeds.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

The winds have shifted,
the oceans have calmed,
the chaotic tides are rolling
up the sand leaving me
resting upon the shore.

Love has settled beside me,
leaving its kisses and
best wishes.

The world seems at rest,
as the sun shines upon
the sea’s, shadows soak
up the beams welcoming
me to this beautiful scene.

The birds are singing
and the wind is soft upon
my skin, the sun is softly
glowing as I am reminded
of the spring.

I have just a short moment
before the summer steals
the breeze.

My lovely spring becomes
a memory.

Like a blooming flower,
spring leaves behind
sweet perfumed memories.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

On the dark side of the glass
I am watching the shadows.

The perfume of my passed
lingers on the air, on
strings of poetry I walk
the night.

The night is my friend, it
brings me pieces of poetry
line by line I build my design
under the stars and passing clouds.

In the morning I am the poet,
the ideas flow and the glass drops
and the shadows become people.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Around, all around,
the sinister creatures gather.
My dread grows
as the dagger of life falls
against my heavy heart.

It wounds me,
and slowly my
essence drips
to the thirsty earth.

In a strange and terrible frenzy
I flee! while doom looms over me.

Now alone,
my fervent plea falls upon deaf ear's.

This is my doom,
my last plea,
nothing can save me
but me!

©2018 By Amanda Shelton

Poetry reveals my true self.

Upon the pressure of my pen
I become a small galaxy of
experiences, the vastness of me
expands as far as the imagination
can stretch my existence.

Line by line, I slowly claim
as the words become a latter
helping me to design my tapestry
of poetry.

I have and will touch everything;
for we are of many strings
vibrating through the vail
of star dust.

Upon the setting sun I burst forth
inspired by the shadows and deepening darkness.
My mind takes flight with
the slowly fading light as I become
a flame that lights up the night.

The vail is lifted and I am released
upon the darkness that is my poetic
desire, and the night is my lover.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

There be shadows lurking in the
meadows, amongst the tall grass
they slither.

Serpent tongues they conceal,
in between teeth like daggers
they saw and hiss.

Their skin seems thick but in reality
they are so thin you can see through
their skin.

Beating on their chests like gorillas
in their trees, they pound in protest,
they think they know what's best.

While they gather inside their pens
the others are left in the cold starving
and homeless.

As they take off their skins
to reveal the piggies underneath,
squealing and hollering like *****
hogs eating all the feed as the earth
burns providing them warmth from
the cold.

All seems doomed, hopeless and bleek.

The Republicans are stealing all our
resources and money, while they
lie steal and cheat.

©️ 2025 By Amanda Shelton

I am in pain.

My head is like Grrr!
I am pirate headache
I bring waves of pain
and crushing winds
to make it harder for you
to get up again.

Rrr! Polly want a *******?

**** pirates,
I don’t like their crackers.

This Polly wants nothing
but relief.

Here they come again,
swords aready, I’ma fighten
pirate’s today.

Pirate Headaches bring
me no *****, instead they
steal my time and comfort.

© 2018 By Amanda D Shelton

Oded to pizza, my crusty friend
with garlic and cheese.

Pizza wishes, the cheesey
crust with tomato sauce
and basil.

Dancing pies cooking in bricked
ovens in the sky, dough slowly
rises melting mozzarella *****
under a cheesey fullmoon over Italy,
cooking upon the heated bricks
of my baked imagination.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the beams of moonlight
I floated down to you.

I found you on the shore
of my dreams, there
I planted my wishes.

I lost you along the way
to the beaches of my dreams.

I floated alone, amongst the
star’s orbiting the moon of
possibilities.

Love, you forgot me.

You pushed me to the shore,
damaging the possibilities
you promised me.

I was forced to watch you
leave, from the island of
broken dreams.

I am still hopeful,
someday you will come
back to join me.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

I hope you are not bitter because of someone else. The hardest thing to do is to forgive yourself so you can forgive someone else. To be vengeful is never helpful, if anything it causes more damage. So please move forward so you can forgive yourself.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the ink from my pen
poetry scratches across this page
with vengeance and vitality.

That like a river overflowing
from its banks, passion floods
from the depths of me.

These pages are evidence of
my poetic crimes, such passion
is like a cut that's deeper than
skin and bone.

Poetry, it's a muse of great
blunder and tragedy.

My lips are locked but my mind is
not. Inspiration grows upon my
silence. Shouts loudly when freed
by writing.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

"Poet I am, poetry this be. Now you're swimming in my poetic dream. Welcome dreamer, you are the possibilities."

Here I am a passing fraze,
a sentence running across the stage.

Here's the chains I broke into pieces of poetic possibilities,
slowly falling onto the page.

Upon this dawning time I rise,
letters scatter as I begin to gather
line by line I hunt the rhythm.

Tug the boat toe to toe
ride the waves into chaotic
seas of poetic dreams.

These dark waters hold no secrets,
for I am it's boatman fishing for a
poetic stream as my thoughts fly
like star's across the sky falling into
a flooding river at my feet.

For I bleed poetry, I drink it like a
cup of tragedies, I am rooted possibilities, poetry is an idea dreaming of being me.

Poet I am, a dreamer of lucid plots,
the poet is set free from my caged mind that broke free from the chains of reality.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

I bury my poetry deep within this digital ground where it will grow and be available for reading. May my roots be strong and my words grow like weeds and like whispers blowing in the wind it will reach those who read me.

My ideas light fires within your minds. I a poet will linger like smoke upon the words I leave behind me.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

From the poet,
I bleed ink so you don't have to.

My pains are smeared across
this post, splattered shattered broken
and shredded, for all to see and
witness the choke.

Chained by society,
held down by anxiety,
depression thinks I'm a joke,
laughing in my face reminding me
of everything I lack.

My abuser is a shadow,
doesn't matter how far away
they are, their ghost is my enemy.

Suffering is my companion,
like a knife it stabs me to remind me
its never far behind me.

Though I struggle, I grow stronger,
I grew a thicker skin, my scars are
a reminder of where I've been.

From the poet,
I bleed ink so you don't have to,
I grow poems through my heartbreak
and strife. I became the knife and my
struggles are my scars.

Its my life.

©️ 2025 By Amanda Shelton

Deep I lay within the earth,
as decay slowly consumes my flesh.

Here death is my friend
and rot is my companion.

Ash and blood mingle
with my memory and
you will never forget
my name for I live on
through your memory of me.

Upon a poem I slipped from
your lips, as my format
slowly became a smudge
of ink.

These are my poetic bones,
reaching out from behind
death's door.

Dirt I breath forevermore.

I am a poet nothing more than
emotional ink drippings and
formats waiting to for you to read
my poetic bones.

I live forever through the
poetic lines I create.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

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

I write poetry,
I also write emotions
that I find difficult to express.

Emotions on the ocean,
ride the rolling tides,
like a wave washing ashore
its life, that lives
in its depths.

It gave birth to a poetic format,
emotions too high to express
through a voice.

I come to a crossroads
between emotions and me,
I always share openly.

**© 2018 By Amanda D Shelton

Walking amongst the distant shadows,
feeling like I am drifting away
the fog is stealing my passion.

Like smoke from a candles flame
I linger on the edge of reality,
I learned years ago, a poet without
a pen is a drowning fool flooded
by unused ideas.

My passion bursts forth from
the deepest depths igniting
the fire of poetic desire.

My ink is that like fire,
it burns from within my skin
and bones, it acks to be free
from my heart that is its cage.

Such passion is pain, a long walk
with suffering and depression.

I built my roads on this digital
ground, and built my bridges with
poetic passion.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

I birth poems from my pen,
I pick them when their ready
to bloom, as these words flow
so does my love for the pen.

This ones for you,
my poetic bumblebee
buzzing around my head,
busy as a bee searching for
poetic style, sweet like honey.

I plant ideas in your mind,
spark intrigue and desire to
design this ruthless style
of line after line, formatted
by my poets fire.

I lash out with poetic
vengeance, its loosely shunned
but unruly is my desire
to light this fire.

I open my mind wide
as I spit my poetic flames
like a dragon in ragged by
hunger.

These musings burn deeply
inside my mind, eager
to burst forth from its cave,
no longer in a cage.

I am a poetic Dragon.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

You know your a poet when your spitting out poetry and you trip over the words but it still makes sense.

The format keeps flowing, floating in your mind like a leaf on the breeze. It landed upon this page.

Mouthful of grunge and ***** blues leaving my jeans stained with regret, I didn’t express myself sooner than I expected.

Now I am mowing the lawn with over the top wordplay, spitting my poetic fire like a rapper losing volume quite but still slick from losing my grip. I catch myself quick.

Twisted rhythm with grinding rhymes and flooding banks of expression. I never leave without passion, I burn like a wick my candle is hot and half melted. Its wickedness lashing out from the blazing words I am expressing.

Call me a poetic fool but I am not joking, my passion burns holes through the internet disconnected from myself, just so I can express myself.

I think like a flower, my passion withers away if I don’t keep expressing in poetic ways.

I hold a lot of power in my words. Words are mightier than a sword. But only if you keep writing…

Express yourself just keep writing.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

Sometimes I wonder the poetic
forest’s of my mind, I ponder.

Is the poetic dreams I conjure
made up of wasted time?

Are my words reaching your
radio static, and your nimble
ears that lean in just a little,
to take a nible from my table?

Can you hear me?
Can you read my expressions?
Am I getting through loud
and clear?

Hello out there!

As you approach the dragons
den, I spew my poetic fire
into your pits of desire and
it burns for awhile.

You can see its flames
waving in your eyes reflection.

I am a weak flame getting hotter
but exhausted from the need
to kindle the inferno.
But here I am still standing
strong, stronger than ever, feeding
the dragon its poetic treasures.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the deluge of my pen
flows a thought, an idea
spewed from the depths
of myself.

Within these walls of my
formatted frames I display
poetic art, it’s splashed
upon this digital house,
scared by the past.

I don’t write tragedies,
I write passionately
and I can move your mind
with one word and a little
of your time.

That’s the poets gift,
I don’t have to work at it
for I was born into
a poets mind.

I am a master of word play
and a designer with
a poetic passion.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton