Aimee
12-20-2003, 05:34 PM
Hey, this is something different. More of a rambling than a poem, So we'll call it "Prose" okay?
By: Amy Aumick - 2003
Taste the fruit inside your mind and find that the fruit is ripe this time.
I lay on a rock untouched and hear what ancient secrets the women whisper to me on the wind. The old mother and wise new crones. They can see me here and feel the fever in my pulse. And though, in shape and form, they could never admit to what now in spirit they can never deny. To help me understand, they tell me to look beyond so far that all that matters is today. What better way to focus on this dilemma within? So easy to say when the lies that society has to tell, say to me that I am wrong. When, innately, I know it to be right.
What should she be missing to want the feel of another's breath on her mouth? To want to get lost in his eyes and swim at the sound of his voice. To jump off this rock and not look back up to where she has fallen from. To land broken and laughing and exhilerated and free! To be caught and set free by her captor's love. To run till she's breathless and still find her way back to a warm house. She feels silly, being wise, and knows that her time is bound to the limitless expectations of the world that keep her here. Crippled by the blows of time.
The spirits show to my closed eyes the infinite possibilities of my soul. I just want to grab one and hang on as we spin together. It is fresh and wild and never will be again. To wear a shroud of white and black inside. To cover my eyes and see only what I am am with her. To cover my ears to the demons that laugh at her values and tell her to run back where she came from. To her mother where it is always safe.
But safety is denied when Life is on the line, and we are never guaranteed to survive. What are we waiting for besides the end? Always in the end...
I look beyond and strain to begin to listen and hear all that is to be truth.
I know it was long, so thanks for taking the time to read the whole thing. Happy Holidays to everyone. God Bless!
By: Amy Aumick - 2003
Taste the fruit inside your mind and find that the fruit is ripe this time.
I lay on a rock untouched and hear what ancient secrets the women whisper to me on the wind. The old mother and wise new crones. They can see me here and feel the fever in my pulse. And though, in shape and form, they could never admit to what now in spirit they can never deny. To help me understand, they tell me to look beyond so far that all that matters is today. What better way to focus on this dilemma within? So easy to say when the lies that society has to tell, say to me that I am wrong. When, innately, I know it to be right.
What should she be missing to want the feel of another's breath on her mouth? To want to get lost in his eyes and swim at the sound of his voice. To jump off this rock and not look back up to where she has fallen from. To land broken and laughing and exhilerated and free! To be caught and set free by her captor's love. To run till she's breathless and still find her way back to a warm house. She feels silly, being wise, and knows that her time is bound to the limitless expectations of the world that keep her here. Crippled by the blows of time.
The spirits show to my closed eyes the infinite possibilities of my soul. I just want to grab one and hang on as we spin together. It is fresh and wild and never will be again. To wear a shroud of white and black inside. To cover my eyes and see only what I am am with her. To cover my ears to the demons that laugh at her values and tell her to run back where she came from. To her mother where it is always safe.
But safety is denied when Life is on the line, and we are never guaranteed to survive. What are we waiting for besides the end? Always in the end...
I look beyond and strain to begin to listen and hear all that is to be truth.
I know it was long, so thanks for taking the time to read the whole thing. Happy Holidays to everyone. God Bless!