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Amy Green Poem
Two thousand years, a tragedy is past
Yet it's history still leaves us aghast.
On a night, dreadfully dark
A volcano erupted, leaving it's historical mark
Mount Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD
The first recorded in all of history
The entire city of Pompeii
Defiled and buried that fateful day
On written account of a man named Pliny
can we view this volcano's ignominy
A city in which artist and poets did reside
Everything was not lost, the day all died
In centuries after, excavation has commenced
The city of Pompeii, antiquities recovered since
The House of the Tragic Poet, one of many unearthed
I will tell you about, from it's peristyle to hearth
Elaborate mosaic floors, frescoes on the wall
An inscription in Latin, from a dog guarding the hall.
The atrium filled with with Mythic Greek nudes
From the peristyle Achilles to be sacrificed exudes
Art along the east wall are of Achilles and Briseis
and the tragedy of Helen and Paris, all cherished
About the entire house, a living poem depicted
Along with words, owner, an artist addicted.
Two thousand years ago, this home was owned
Loved and nourished by a Popeiian unknown.
The House of the Tragic Poet
If you saw, you would know it.
A. Green
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2010
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Amy Green Poem
Impetus of spring
Beget invigorate life --
Fruition with hope.
Shrill winds rip, tear, cry
Heated verse under the sheets,
The songs of love grow.
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2010
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Amy Green Poem
You said you wanted a slam
So here it goes
You're going to feel it stinging
from your head to toes
A wham, bam, thank you ma'am
A sinister soul I am
I took to you
and quite so soon
I gotta make you unglued.
You're famous, you're a PS tart
and I do mean that
from the bottom of my heart-
But it's about time you got a taste
of your own medicine and male hitting disgrace
And I will scream this in your face!
Oh how right you were
and I must concur-
That this slamming crap is fun-
but your words will all be a blur.
So tap -tap you're next,
Don't worry, I like you too much to hex
but not enough to have...
So get with it, little bit-
waiting on you to get a clue
Send me your slam-
And we'll see who wins the GLAM!
From the Freak
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2010
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Amy Green Poem
In days of yore, when Vikings vigorously reigned
Beauty of the Valkyrie, vixen of intoxicating dreams
The maidens chose a paladin who departed and gained
entrance into Valhalla, they were Odin's esteemed
Beauty of the Valkyrie, vixen of intoxicating dreams
Goddess to serve her warrior - immortally embraced
Entrance into Valhalla, they were Odin's esteemed
Under her soft touch, favored men - tenderly placed
Beauty of the Valkyrie, vixen of intoxicating dreams
The maidens chose a paladin who departed and gained
Goddess to serve her warrior - immortally embraced
In days of yore, when Vikings vigorously reigned.
Amy Green
Epic motif
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2010
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Amy Green Poem
P.D.- Sid Lee
When will you reveal to us
Your mysterious androgyny?
A. Green
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2010
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Amy Green Poem
* This one is for my Mommy, her Mommy ETC- the lucky ones.
Nourishment- encouragement.
Minister of all heart's treasure
Donor of the kindest pleasure
Infinite love, no measure
Powerful embraces, your leisure.
Sublime being, forever proud
Never shallow, nor a shroud
Instructing all, love you vowed
Quiet sentinel, strength so loud.
Upon weary days, you'd not smother
Heart enriching, me 'n' my brother
To adore you, there in no other
Divulging to all, the perfect Mother.
This one is for the unlucky one's who have or had no choice.
O' girl born to royalty
From the moment of birth,
Preened for the aristocracy
Prospect to a King's loyalty-
Fed from another's breast
Mother was busily searching for
your future husband's crest.
Princess's every movement planned,
even to whom would be given her hand.
Aged of thirteen years,
a fountain of ideas was becoming hers.
Learned in languages, yet
to never have a tongue
Driven to madness
O' so very young.
"All that is expected of thee
is to be wife and Queen, in this land
of unity. Bear sons and speak not
a whit, after all... you are but a
woman, silly twit." Her Father, the
King explained that eve 'fore her nuptial.
"But Father, I know not even who he is!"
The frightened Princess softly spoke.
Yet the argument was always the same.
She was to wed the King of a strange land,
to go with him as always planned.
She was to forge the union of Kingdoms.
To do as told and enjoy all that is grand.
The day of the Union, she met her
betrothed, walking down the isle
He stood there , some fifty years old,
large, pasty, expectant and with a vulgar smile.
And all her fears, even within her
young years- drove her instantly mad.
In a rage, she died then and there
rather than to be locked in her Royal
cage.
These are akin to so many women and mother's alive to this day.
Never should these women go unnoticed.
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2012
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Amy Green Poem
Shut me up, slam the door in my face
Doctor, doctor-
Is it really so bad I wanna know about
the human race?
The human condition, or maybe
even addiction- is it so wrong to ask
a question without a dollar sign?
I ain't bad, I ain't nuts-
Just a regular ol' girl who's curious.
A. Green
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2012
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Amy Green Poem
I was fed a brain scorpion tonight.
Small sting... but a cute glimmer of the things to come.
Hypodermic needle pinning point blank on my frontal lobes-
and other places deep and hidden between the gray valleys of DNA,
time and space.
He changed me tonight- the scorpion did
Every prick is hotter and deeper every valley dripping away second by second
Those chipped away parts then disappeared into the ether
where I heard the howls.
The howls - what were those- the ether refuses to tell- Something whispers
to me, "They are hell".
The howls. The howl- The howls - In the ether- Howls in the ether.
Howls in the ether. Somewhere between Body, Ether, Space,
Heaven, Hell- Dreams are now where I am at.
What is this place
Is this a place
This a place?
This place?
Howls- ether- place- scorpion- man- ether-place- voices howls
POISON
Grecian mountain wind, shivering, so cold
Howls, ether, Scorpion stings.
Memories of voices, heads turning all the way around.
Candle wax- Howls- Ether
Whispers in the dark.
I promised to leave, to escape
DONE! I told them.
But all I hear are howls, ether, wind.
All I see are the candles and the man.
I climbed the mountain where the heavy winds tried to
drag me back into the howls, scorpions and ether.
I hung onto a snake, a strong snake, but the howls,
ether, scorpion dreams overtook him too.
Small dead things are lying about- salamanders, snails, spiders
were flipped on their backs from the scorpion tale.
Squeaks from murky corners WELCOME me-
WHY AM I HERE!
Howls, whispers, a man murky, scorpion, howls, ether, ether, time and dreams-
all things
Those jaws snapping as I pushed away, by plumes of gargantuan
smoke screens- their bodies,
Those dreadful heads were snapping in the ether.
Some eyes rolling, some eyes fading away-
Some stare ravenously-- some things standing so close in this pith of Hades I can smell rancid breath- In the ether.
Something awoke, something so immense, something so colossal,
it's length was that of the heavens to the underworld.
It’s teeth were broken jagged rock bitten right out of the earth.
My eyes so wide and as soon as I did see- I knew it was dragging
me into the depths of where ever it came from-
somewhere between ether, space, and
nightmares. This thing of the ether
thundered out the sounds of a million trapped souls.
This thing that is not a thing-
No sense in fighting, I am done...
The howls began again.
Why did I leave?
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2012
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Amy Green Poem
I once giggled at a Clierhew by Andrea Dietrich
Let me say, she was awfully ticked
She cursed me out in poetic form
Afraid I'll forever feel her scorn!
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2014
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Amy Green Poem
Quixotic are we
Our bliss every night one kiss
A phantom mirrored
In a fervent moonlit pond
Like Nushi and Suseri*
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2012
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