Please welcome this week’s writer and Random’s FIRST poet: AMANDA E. JORDAN
Amanda is a sophomore at Reinhardt University in Waleska, Georgia, studying Biology with a Pre-Nursing concentration. She plans on being either a Nurse Practitioner or a Microbiologist, but regardless of which of the two careers she chooses, she plans to obtain at least a Doctorate degree if not a Ph.D.
Amanda writes a-stream-of-consciousness poetry, which she thinks might be strange and unfamiliar to most people, but I love it because it’s thought-provoking. She writes her poems solely from the emotions or thoughts she has at the time she’s writing them. She hopes readers will appreciate her poems for their use of imagery and interesting wording.
Her writing routine? She says, “It’s not a real routine, to be honest. When I feel moved to write poetry, I either pick up my pen and some paper or my laptop, and just let my emotions flow from my brain to the paper or the screen. Sometimes, if I feel it’s necessary, I’ll go back and edit my poems for clarity, add better imagery, and/or add in more precise adjectives. With formal papers and research papers, I usually just sit down at my desk with all of my sources, and a thought-out thesis/hypothesis, and begin writing in the proper style (e.g. intro, body, etc.). It takes me a very long while to write any kind of paper, as I am a perfectionist, and I edit while writing.”
Besides writing, Amanda sings. She’s been in choirs for as long as she can remember. She loves to draw, paint, create and transform clothing, and she’s quite good with hair and makeup. She finds creativity and science go together quite splendidly, there is a good amount of science in almost everything, and creative ideas/work are not exempt.
Take time to read them all and pick your fave.
Close your eyes, sweet child;
Tribulation ends swiftly when the flowers die.
Even through the endless darkness, a vine of light can be sought out.
Open your brilliant eyes to life and see that the swelling darkness
Is nothing more than a simple illusion which has sought to destroy
The meaning of your foreboding journey.
Give thought to the loss of a one blossoming, fruited flower
And return to the simplicity of your tried and abiding thoughts.
For what you believe to be, is, and will reign in the darker regions
Of your graying matter forever more.
Deceit, burning like a fire inside.
I now ponder why I live to create
When the green and blue around me
Live to desiccate and demolish.
I reach back to pull my head up
From the heavy, molten ground that holds it down,
And I see no beauty in the eyes of men;
I see ruins of lost materializations, of ideas
That only float in the heavenly skies above,
Once great, but now done with and vile.
A life without this stagnant waterfall of emotion,
Which drips down endlessly upon my shoulders,
Is not what I imagined to bestow
My celestial ideas upon.
Vous êtes un poison d’appel d’offres,
La sécheresse si doux;
Déchirer les mots de ma bouche.
Pourquoi devez-vous me refusez?
Je ne suis plus là –
Personne ne voit de toutes les blessures profondes
Que vous avez posé sur moi.
Soulager, mon amour aveugle?
Mais notre histoire est gravé dans la pierre,
Et je suis là,
(Translation from French: Sacred Heart)
You are a tender poison,
A drought so sweet;
Tearing the words from my mouth.
Why must you refuse me?
I am no longer here –
No one sees all the profound wounds
That you have laid upon me.
Relieve me, my benighted love?
But our tale is set in stone,
And I am here,
In a gray lit sky,
Lies burdens heavy.
Wish upon altered benevolence,
Nodding toward gardens of voluminous grace,
Shepherding, unparalleled genius awaits.
If only I could wait until the day brings itself upon dire need.
Vicarious, be it inside;
I cunningly know it is better than I.
End of it all, tremendous.
Qualities given to the brainless ones, moreover
I burn with blood blue and red.
All I see is eyes and color; experiencing verisimilitude.
To live and transcend, and to ascend into greatness,
But where it is,
They know not.
That of which makes my soul sing
Is beautiful music to the body, resting inside
Where the heart lies,
Beating fast and swelling with joy and the profound,
Vast voids of seemingly empty space proudly fulfilled once again!
Thank the Heavens and the gods that those adamantine emotions
Never again yield to the chains of affliction!
Chaos shall not reign in the place of sounding blessings;
Instead, let the dove regain its strength
And fly free against odds again.
My favorite? SACRED HEART because it’s tragic. No, I don’t love tragedy, but I FELT this one. It moved me, and when an author can elicit emotion in her reader she’s done well.
Which was your fave and why?