A mind filled by the heart sees a world full of beauty and compassion.

Contents

. ignorance . intensity . indignity . iniquity

Ignorance

to fail to notice

to avoid understanding

to lack and to want

BEAUTIFUL MESS

Spirit coaches coax the self contained to

let yourself go and pour your heart

through this chaotic life and pay them for it

see a world from their eyes

you have yet to be seen

so you can hang your woes on their words

it’s not worth the temptation

to say you’re scared and miss out

on whatever it all is they say everything can be

remember I will be there

when you think you may fall

stand up for you

when you want to crawl

beneath the covers

do not you dare hide from a mess

as it likely ends up being the best thing

like exactly what happened to me

you see

because you are imagined to be another me

you become less of you and more as I see

your mind maybe light off

getting the permission you didn’t need

to tell that f****r you’re not so happy with him

ah, doll, what a beautiful mess

let it go

let it be

whatever those dungs sung before we

went ahead and let clothes pile

upon the floor

let the dishes stink up the sink

so long as the lock was fixed on the door

Ignore

the world of responsibility

to unlock your mind

with some time bending fungus

can reform you to

give less order to the beautiful mess

Nevermind your face red and swollen

my shoulder here for your eyes to run dry

my veins are roots of a plant

you can weep to feed, alright

see now, it’s just better to cry

your spiritual doula reminds you

what you want will find you much more appealing

when you forgoe your senses

toss them with the wind

and smell the traffic

the hot paved street

toward the life coach

giving you a place

what a beautiful mess

this temptress of control

has found your lost soul

to sell you on

a pyramid scheme

for a pink car you never wanted to drive anyway.

Indignity

to enact baseness

to conduct unworthiness

to impatiently dominate

BEAUTIFUL, IS A WORD

He called me beautifulwith a serpentine hissa lock hold in his eyesheld me beneath my human rights

wanting to be brazen

and hold back of mind what I knew

of a moment too soon to unfoldbut I sighed

and said thank-you through my lipsand pulled my body away with my hipsand pleaded, I screamed so loud insideand hoped he could hearbut later at night half asleepI heard words through my pillowshocked frozen I could not speaka little louder my pulse beatthrough my body (the echo beautiful)vanity as broken mirror nowfractured my demeanoursuch a relationship could never equatethe transcendence from soul to mateas he used my soul as meat—an aesthetic match everyone remarkedwas simply striking out to mesince beauty requires no speechjust the appreciation upended by truststriking commentary

between breaths of seasonal wind

unwavering,

songs with a rhythmno mouth attached to a bodywho can perform such a deedcan form the realness of a wordhe was better off never saying.

BEAUTIFUL, IS RELATING

Slowing down doesn't lessen timemy friend, we needsomething greater than perceiving reality

or inspiration whirlwinds

to battle desperationformed by physical posturing

attempting to empty my head with limited computer time

amplified by stepping outside

every line of poetry rushing in

shrinks me back to paced dances

warped and bent timeI ran from facingas a seeker of expansionand a spectrum far awayand full of funny friendsbut his dark sense of humour should have worried me further

than my brothers statesidesince how much real beautycan be transpiring throughthis kind of transactional relating.

© Mari Amman. All Rights Reserved.

Poetry, Prose &Suche VOL I.

First edition 2023, electronic distribution. Text and Images by Mari Amman.

The poems contained within this volume were drafted circa 2006-2009, in Chicago, USA, and edited during spring 2023 in Paris, France, with the enormous support of The Trélex Residency.

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