Amelie Ison

Amelie Ison Poems

Well, all the yellow paint that you consume
Will not paint happiness inside you.
A splash of paint on your internal organs
Will not brighten up you like it brightens up your walls,
...

The silhouettes are all that remain:
There is nothing left of them
But the memories that have faded over the years.
From generation to generation,
...

I may not be your cup of tea
But I am your tenth shot of tequila.
We are made to be together
One way or another.
...

There is a crow that always follows me:
A master of shadow—
His dark black wings full of mystery and evil;
His cunning dots for eyes.
...

I watched a dog sweep across the land where no man stands:
So delicate in his every step. He manoeuvred across it
With very little fault, and he didn't worry for the mud
That clung his feet like a monster primed to attack.
...

-For Burns

Hanging from its branches,
The tree bears them like glorious fruits—
...

-For Hades, the crow

We put you up high so the cats can't get you,
But it is futile: you will die anyway.
...

You are the Bringer Of Life:
The one who spreads the seeds of Mother Nature—
But when The Darkness beckons you to follow,
You must heed its call to die at last.
...

-To my friends (who are not poets)

How can you not be a poet?
Let me understand:
...

He stands in the corner, watching me:
His eyes are red like blood
And he bears no name, rank, or identity—
His skin is faded pale
...

If I were a lamb,
I would be a favourite of the priest's.

I, being so docile and so sweet,
...

A poem is someone's soul on paper:
It emits a feeling,

Perhaps of great rage or warmth or sadness—
...

Our silent heroes:

The animals who served us
...

Man cannot surpass dying—
He cannot live past his own death.
Power fades and falls. Like the tide,
...

I know what they are doing,
As they carry me to the car—
I have thought many times upon this moment;
As I know you have too.
...

There is a wolf that watches over me—
I don't know if he is a friend, or if he is foe.
He watches me from afar (silently; peacefully) :
He does not mean to wish me any harm.
...

You sit above me, on the throne of the world.
Our leader, no dispute as to who is in charge
But the fear of your hooked head and hooked feet:
It chases us even as we sleep.
...

At night, I see a man walking.
He is wandering down the country lanes and along a dark road—
He does not know where he is going
And he walks without purpose nor pride.
...

In a great, entangled forest, stands a metal monster—
An impossibility of nature, made by man. Alone;
Broken—it looms over all things natural
And asserts its right over the creatures that belong.
...

When I am gone,
The world will be no different -
It will not change because of me;
Because of my absence. I
...

Amelie Ison Biography

I write some poetry. It's usually boring and free verse because I can't rhyme at all.)

The Best Poem Of Amelie Ison

Yellow Paint

Well, all the yellow paint that you consume
Will not paint happiness inside you.
A splash of paint on your internal organs
Will not brighten up you like it brightens up your walls,
And it will not cover up the stain of despair
That a thousand towels could not mop away.
They will always think you're mad
For swallowing something so toxic,
And they will always call you stupid for trying
Something that will never work.
You cannot paint the walls of your internal organs,
Despite all the paint that you consume:
Yellow or not, it will never make you happy;
It will only make it worse.

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