An Amy Of One - Spoken Work & Poetry

And so, she said to him....

One Sentence, A Moment of Your Time

Nothing Wrong With Wearing a Mask

Ode to My Gigantic Ego

today...i (added in August 2008)

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and so she said to him...

and so, she said to him.....

I am not like any other.....

I do have stormy weather,
and if you don't like it, please,
don't set up camp here,
or tend to any of my wildflowers.
They can care for themselves,
(they just won't have anyone to bless
with their fragrance)

I do need to.... let you know,
I don't intend to hurt you,
my thunder and lightning
and rain,

it's just my nature, and I do not care to change....

(there are places you can move to
where the weather is always nice,
and the leaves never change colors,
if you like perpetual spring...)

I am letting you know now,
that is not me.

You may get caught up in the occasional rainstorm,
that is me;
But I promise, I, too,
shall bring you in from the rain,
wash you, hold you,
and tend to any of your wounds.....

And more, for of course,
the most violent rainstorms, fires, floods,
bring great renewal, new life,
gracefully making room for new love to rippen....

You may tend to my beautiful garden,
rest there and you shall see,

eternal spring inside moments of enchanted infiniti.

And you shall be the only one,
that will know,
the me of I am,
the eye of my way,
and to know the why of amy.....

so: check one box please,

yes
no
maybe

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One Sentence, A Moment of Your Time

(another joy-in-progress).....

is there anybody here but me?
is there any feeling but love? or its absence?

may I for a moment absent-mindedly be....... still,
and know that only love is real?
May my mind, which they have said
is a terrible thing to waste,
and yet, it has already been wasted,
on moments of hating myself......

of seeing the ugliness
reflected down the hall of mirrors
past twilight's glimpse,
and i didn't want to look any more at the ugliness,

so, instead, i stared and i stared,
and as I did, well, well, those tears they did well,
as I began to see the truth.......

inside these ugly walls, the graffiti, the stench,
the feelings of utter nasty,
the vomit, the waste, the spew.......

and all I think then is the words of Rumi......

beyond this place of wrongdoing and rightdoing,

there is a field,

i'll meet you there......

and i march now to my beat and though
i feel a certain outcasted-ness
in the not-be-longing space,

I no longer feel a longing,
i've elongated all-of-it............

this long-awaited-only-wholy moment,

and though I do not long, I do await,
and the waiting room is great, there's lots of room here.

And when the joy that I feel can no longer fill the room,

these walls around me will shed
when they can no longer stand the pressure of all this love,
and then,

we will finally see each other,
in a new light,
in a new field,

and finally dis-cover our hearts from their shield,

and each shall be each others lover,
and when will it end,

when will it end (?)

world without end,

world with our end,

culminating in an ALL EXPANSIVE WAY.....

And god must have created only infinity,
'cause otherwise this love would cascade upon itself.......

so i'll just lay here and wait.....
lay here and wait,

filled with love so great,

and let's talk a deeper walk, please, a deeper look,
and see what's underneath what we're afraid to see.....

isn't there only me?

all this dust, all this waste, all this hate.......

uncovering layers upon layers,

flowers-blooms and spreads beaded up,

for this grand lickity split
will spill delighted
moment,

a sentence that doesn't end with a period,

and the cycle continues,

orld ithout end, orld ithout end,

no dubbya, no peace, know dubbya, know peace....
and the holy trinity is to complete, we need not compete.

all the pieces of the puzzle move together
in a magical a-ha moment,
put down our shields,
open our hearts,

release ourselves from mental slavery,

"pain is just fear leaving the body"

so cry and laugh and lay awake, it is okay,

And the holy trinity becomes whole again.....

world without end, world without end.........

THE BEGINNING IS THE END

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Nothing wrong with wearing a mask...

nothing wrong with wearing a mask,
when you know who you are underneath,
and can easily remove what isn't real.

Take the make-up off and feel
(not so naked at all) -
to know that all of it is real.

It's only when I think the mask is me,

the villain,
the victim,
the hero,

when attachment, shame, confusion,
hold the game in place
and make it no fun at all.

When we're too afraid to even
take our own masks off at night,

Afraid we won't know who we are underneath it all,
Afraid the masks have cut wounds so deep
they've made us ugly.
Or we try to take them off
and they're super-glued on.

And when we see our own face
for the first time,
we'll know,
that there's no reason to hide.

From ourselves

and soon.....

from each other.....

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Ode to My Gigantic Ego

You're so sexy with that big head of yours,
not-to-mention those sweet-ass big titties
and how you love to strut them.
Shake that ass, back and forth....

When I was a kid, I would dream of it,
the way Chrissy Snow (not Janet) would walk along
the Santa Monica Pier,
and shake that booty as she did.
AH, YES, I AM A GODDESS!!!!

.....and underneath those titties,
there is a heart,
warmer than the sun,
and I think that's the place
where all the dead stars of the universe must have chosen to reincarnate....

at least, that explanation sure is pleasing
to my bad-ass (as big as the one I carry).....
............ ......... ......... ...ego... ......... ......... .........

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today....i

I have yet to record this one.... it's not on the album

today, I clutched my purse when you walked near
me....

(I was the classic white lady,
you were the classic black man,
are you familiar?)

and how do I begin to say I am sorry.
I begin here.
I cannot explain to you with a why and how
which would somehow make it okay.

Make it okay that I fear you.

I don't even know you.

The why and the how,
to understand the past,
but that's been recounted again and again,
and I know that, and so, I suppose, do you...

The better understanding is how and why,
can we begin to forge a future
where we embody kinship and friendship,
where my natural response is not

(clutch purse) but....

(smile) and say hello, what is your name?

what do you say?

I found out last week that a black boy I once but
barely knew is 16 and in jail.... why? why? why?

We grow up to be the sprouted seed
in the garden where we were planted.

People can play the "bootstraps" game all they want,
(and how does it feel when they say it's all your
fault?)

I have never to this day seen a sprout up and grow
legs to walk to a higher ground, not when the
weights of the past
slavery and crack,
are barely enough for your seed to sprout...

(should you feel grateful then just to be alive?)

I wish I had the answers to all the questions I seek,
but I trust life to answer them for me,
all I want an answer for is this,
will you be patient with me?

I am trying my best.

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