Category Archives: Poetry By Woodsy & Amber

Woodsy & Amber Poetry #6: The Sting Of Soft Things Duet

If I could lift your fingers,
show you the ice where my page froze
and swing a little pirouette,
catch you falling
through the sting of soft things…

paradoxes catch the fall in their duality
the funny thing about the heart is, may it be so that a soft heart is a strong hard?
yet a hard heart may be a weak one?
this beaming life vessel feels sunken in from all the winds of life’s endurances
blankly staring at my page

I can only speak for my own scars,
forged in an anger that screams into words
and glowers over silence.
I can only speak for the rawness that will not let go –
the courage of the vulnerable, hunting for worthy words

misty eyes scrambling to see through the fog –
how can I know what you feel when all I have is my experience to relate
most go through life judging their fellow human family through tunnel vision
concotions of confusion with muffled voices

So tired of what is written,
I find myself diving between,
sailing the spaces, the pauses –
safecracking the combinations between chapters
and running away with a small piece of unwritten soul
this fragment of soul stills the perpetual cycling of the mind’s cogs and finds that treasure warping open into the next door

By Woodsy ( & Amber (

Poetry By Woodsy & Amber #5: Heartbeaten Wings

this heart was beating wildly, as if it would hatch a butterfly and pounce rhythmically out of my chest
they say the souls of the dead live on in these magical flying creatures
hatching from all those things that died in me, melted under tears
and then redrew their flight paths in quiet cocoons
into the dark place where light grows, fluttering wings in tremor-like dream states
feeling safer in the dark than the light
safer unspoken
in a world heaving with missiles and microphones
and fake laughs, psychological governmental brainwashing, numb rhetoric and failing empathy
all the things that make us human seem to be slipping away out of my grasp
desperate for a place I have never been
even though it lives inside me,
looking for the combination to all those locks and shudders and cold places pencilled in my diary
desperate to transform through metamorphosis and break the lock
to fly to unknown realms and bring back the treasure to decode my exsistence
and spread the wildest of these wings,
nailed to something better than pain
to feel supported by the intelligent consciousness unseen but known

By Woodsy ( & Amber (

Poetry By Woodsy & Amber #4: Conjuring

caressing this nose, blankly staring into the abyss of the white paper beneath me,

thoughts swirling around questioning my existence and why I would be here..

sadness like snowflakes

leaving a trail so much wider than the heart they came from

common feelings drift along the human psyche as to where we belong

melancholic hues strangling my vision

when did I freeze too deep to get up again?

or reach for those coats I used to write myself?

one decision I made took this story in a whole new direction

can I ever be redeemed and find redemption?

I remember when those blizzards were galaxies,

laughing me down hills as they rolled

and the northern lights lit up the halo above my head

as a child playing, dancing and near the veil of forgetting, amongst the stars

By Woodsy ( & Amber (

Poetry By Woodsy & Amber #3: Iridescence

They said I had a massive heart –
said they could see it
sucking up the juice from lonely tides,
like that one long snake of evening billow,

coming home from the oceans and the stars

strolling the coastline, contemplating and reminiscing, searching for some place they call home

my footing on the rocks give way, climbing steep hills, symbolizing and summing up my life’s slippery stability

my lights fade a little in my eyes –

like little jewel stars,
too far from the ocean to be recharged

and too deep between the cracks to be glued

I yearn for the times where I could hear the gulls above and the wind whispering between the hills

incessant loud noise invades my mind, stealing moments of serenity

Now the tide comes from dark places,

the shadows behind closets I’m too big to hide in –

too big not to be seen,

held accountable
for my little patch of shoreline
where telescope eyes weep over long-abandoned sand,

waiting for the big wave that’s already drowning my heart

as night strolls in, returning back to base, hanging the iridescent glow of candlelight above the cavern by the sea

this gentle flicker burns itself out, darkness makes itself a home;

Into the astral planes of mystery my consciousness goes to work out my demons there..

riding a trail that nestles down low like the streetlights,
woven from toxic vapour trails and cars..

rebuilding the rest of me with stars

the mysterious nature of reality and my own mind unfolds forevermore..

By Woodsy ( & Amber (

Poetry By Woodsy & Amber #2: Clambering At Sanity

I’m drifting ragged, buzzed by the phantom flight of not-quite migraines

Holding myself in at the seams, clambering at my sanity in a sea full of strong salinity

Looking for my flavour, overwhelmed by the tyranny of salt

Swamping my consciousness, tastes of fragments of my self falling as confetti

No wonder I’m so nauseous, so weepy in their wake

Pieces of the scratched at soul scattered in places forgotten and remembered

If tears will heal, why do they always land so broken on my soul?

They say time heals wounds, the wounds remain, the mind protects our sanity, scar tissue covers, the pain lessens and it is never gone

So hold me – dig at my wounds, raw as they are, squeeze your heart and fingers over mine, and warm yourself on the flicker of a camp we never made

Take me to places beyond the bounds of imagination

-By Woodsy ( & Amber (

Art By Woodsy (

Poetry By Woodsy & Amber #1: How They See Us, But Not Who We Are


There is a place in all this where you feel somehow more human than anybody…

right in the middle of a sentence from which all reference to your humanity has been removed.

You know the texture of it,

the taste of it on tears,

the yearning that keeps you holding desperately on to something undefined

and borderlined –

fences beyond which you know there is only wasteland.

The last human thing at the far end of the galaxy,

weeping for a second chance at stars.

They’d kill this place if they knew it was there –

a ghost in the machine,

reminding us what was lost.

Rounding us up as if like cattle in rows and lines..

For injections, in supermarkets and in white-washed, numb health facilities

It’s as if we lost our sense of humanity and what this essence and purity means..

A cosmic blip in time of an exsistence, walking down the city streets..

No one seems to smile or acknowledge eachother anymore

Hearts sink to the ground..

Apathy chills to the bone..

It’s as if some far away place gravitates and spins,

A home far-away, a planet full of warmth and love seeks out beyond the atmosphere

Love yearns to find a home

It tries to settle in this place but no matter how comfortable it is made to feel, nothing seems quite right..

Is it heard what is being said? Or do they already have a pre-programmed response conjured up in their mind?

Listening to muffled sounds, undefined

Band-aids are slapped onto the muffled voices

They think they’ve given us choices..

How they see us..

But not who we are.

-By Woodsy ( ) & Amber (