Sample Writings
On this page, you will find a collection of prose and poetry pieces crafted by Amelia Itnyre. Each piece showcases her unique writing style and creativity, allowing you to immerse yourself in the beauty of her words. Whether you are a fan of poetry, prose, or simply enjoy the art of storytelling, you are sure to find something to inspire and captivate you here.
Sample Poems:
Not A Mother
In the asylum,
she fussed over a false babe of wrapped up blankets
Doted on the emptiness
Wailed when it was taken from her
By unfeeling nurses
Her limbs flailed in four directions
All of them reaching for that which was gone
Not gone?
Gone.
In the dream,
He came to her teenaged and angry
Mommy, I'm mad at you
You couldn't hold on to me
I'm sorry, she said
I'll always be in the butterflies, he replied
He kissed her cheek
And they danced together
In the light
In the morning,
Her house was still quiet
The kind of quiet
Felt in the bones.
Her heart could almost hear
Just one parallel universe over,
The sweet laughter of her baby
Not here
In the deep quiet.
In the garden,
Her fingernails filled with soil
Fertile and waiting
She filled the holes with the seeds of many flowers
Each would grow
To flourish and bloom
Filling the days with many colors
Calling sweet butterflies down
From the heavens.
The Doorway
As I walk through the doorway toward
Joy and Wisdom
Clouds rumble behind me
And I dare not look back
In the distance, a rainbow
Shines with grace
Over open fields
And roaming animals
Of every peaceful kind
Real and imaginary
I am invited forward
But, this time, I do not make the mistake of tumbling in
like Alice after her rabbit
I notice and gracefully step over
The hole at the entryway
Which would have taken me back
It oozes black
With the bitterness
I could have fallen into
If I had not passed the test
To enter in
To Joy and Wisdom
These Children of the Earth
Plots of fertile land
Grow fruitful bounties
Light from the sun
Shines powerfully upon them
Sacred waters rain forth
Flowing through and to
The roots which reach
For the core of the Mother
Through guiding soil.
This time
This time they will succeed
In reaching the stars
In knowing each other’s loving hearts
These children of the Earth.
O Mother!
Her heart,
Through the trees it calls to them
They beat the drums
To dance for Her
And only if they know of Her,
Her sweetest song
Will they become
What She dreams for them
To be.
To Know God Fully
I was born with respect in my bones
The only lonely thought
I'd ever owned
Gone as I was held to my mother's chest
She was there with a chattering of teeth
A golden bold soul
On a path that retreats
To be found at another's edge
Pink bows on Sundays
The girdled girls marvel
At the truly olden woven ways
That lead us all to the rainbow's end
Salsa on strawberries
The wicked ways of weirdos
Who turn into monsters
Only if provoked
I remember always
How often they speak for the High Ones
Their voices on loan
From the Sky Gods
But when I am home I am protected
Wing-hearted center
Unaffected by infection
Lit from within by the God-head
Nanticoke
If I wear my moccasins,
Will then they believe me?
That native blood,
Though it runs blue
To be seen through
The paper white
Thinness of my face,
That this river-born, fire-forged blood
Runs through
My old veins
Calling me to dance
The Eagle Dance
Of my people.
Will they know then?
If I wear my moccasins
Boots of fringes
And delicate beads
Will they call me their own?
If I make my pilgrimage
To see my people
Will they call me brother-sister
As of two spirits in one?
Or in having embraced the wrong
Crossing of the minds
Will they turn me away as strange?
In my moccasins,
will they own
my long lost cousin heart?
Dancing deeply, flowing
With the Spirit
Ever-bursting through,
My moccasins
Pounding the solid dirt,
I know that I am one
With the world,
Great Spirit,
And with my people-
Old world and new,
Blonde-haired and raven-winged.
I am forever
Two or three in one.
And The Mother
Her ancient heart beats
Hard
Beneath my moccasins.
Mother Flower's Tale
We three arrived at the springs
Beneath the trees
With great hopes.
I released both baby dragons to drink
Fell to my knees
Cupped the water to my lips
With faith in its potency
The keepers of the land arrived,
Spoke out over
The buzz of dancing fairies
Above our heads
Who art thou great lady?
I am but a mother called Flower
Here to seek fresh water
And a path understandable
We have for you clean water
And a path.
But understandability
Is to be found at another's gate.
Here we have only nonsense
Such as to be insatiable
To curiosities.
Ah, I said, but we have traveled so far
In tight circles
Around ourselves
Seeking refuge in the God
Some say they stand for.
Do you not stand for this?
For the God of safekeeping
And warmth?
We stand only for abolition
In its most absolute form.
If you are a flower,
May you know that you are a star!
And though a star is made of heat,
It is surrounded by cold, empty space
'Who are you?' we have asked
With no regard for your response.
We are great seekers, I declared.
We hold no great desires to twiddle
And ah that seems the thing you do here
Most readily.
Though the water drinks pure
Your attitudes of ultimate freedom -
Are stifling
To those who wish to be held
In a steady embrace.
I think not we shall rest here much more.
Anon we move on.
A'ho.
To read more poems by Amelia, sign up for her email list to pre-order a copy of her first poetry book. You may also request personalized poetry compositions on a sliding scale. First poem is free.
Sample Non-Fiction Prose
Amelia recently had a chapter published in Mission Hope Vol. 5: Rediscovering and Embracing the Joy Within. Here you may read an excerpt from that chapter.
If you'd like to order the book, join my email list. If you want to read just the chapter and cannot afford the whole book, let me know and I'll email you the chapter. However, I highly recommend buying this amazing book filled with the insights of other extraordinary writers and healers.
"The Doors to Joy
While approaching this question of how to find joy, I felt an intense pressure build between my eyeballs. The only kind of joy I found myself capable of feeling at the moment was somewhat wry, tinged with resentfulness. People I loved had been dying in rapid succession, each before I could get my bearings following the preceding. Homicide, suicides, peacefully in bed. It felt as though grief was the only friend who would surely never leave me. I am always aware though that when grief seems unbearable, its antithesis, joy, can and should be gently sought. In the past, I have found many doors to joy.
From this place of grief, I shall knock on them all: calm, hope, gratitude, perspective, faith, humor, wisdom, play, and purpose.
I always approach each of these doors to joy with an understanding of how my body and spirit respond to varying emotions. The contractions of grief, of sadness and anger can feel so intense one quite literally curls into a ball on the bed or the floor. The expansions of happiness, love, calm, and joy cause the muscles to relax and the body to feel softer. The soul requires both expansion and contraction. Both of these states are entirely necessary and normal while here on Earth.
When a state of contraction in the body is too intense or lasts too long, the spirit can lose perspective and the body or mind can even get sick. I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. When a spiritual contraction lasted for too long within me, the fractal would form exponentially. I used to believe that I was the source of all evil in the universe, the piece which needed to be purged. This led to suicide attempts. In order to move forward and heal, I had to successfully knock the doors to Joy. And now, facing death and grief, it became time to knock the doors again..."
To read the rest of this chapter, please pre-order a copy of Mission Hope Vol. 5: The Power of Joy by emailing Amelia
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