Stay is a funny command;
when I asked you to lie still within my
hands and let me keep you between my
fingers, you immediately began to squirm.
You wriggled around and slipped past
my cracks, and when I asked you to
hold back, to let me touch you one last
time, you ran full speed in the other
Stay is a funny command;
no one ever takes it as seriously as you do,
and no one ever listens.
"Stay" is ineffective and inefficient, like the
love I feel for you.
The atoms you're composed of
Stay together like magnets, profound love
To make you who you are...
Do you ever look to the sky at night in wonder,
Knowing your ingredients come from what was, a star?
The recipe that is you, reads out important clues
About bonds between all, connecting destinies to follow through
Every time I sent a question out,
Answers were received.
It's such a phenomena,
years ago I would not have believed.
So now I walk around barefoot,
Soaking up the chi.
Bound by the universal matrix,
Helps me feel so free.
It's really opened me up, to the beauty of everything.
and when my mind's not right I let it out and sing.
In harmony with the cosmos, dancing to the frequencies of nature
Like swirling galaxies, with a relationship so pure
In motion with one glorious ocean, the waves affect us all.
take the chance even if it means risking the fall
You have the power to manipulate energies for positive change,
your significance is never small
Give in to the power of the infinite, just give it a chance.
Tap into the rhythm of all that's given,
remember you are creator of the moments we live in,
Switch up the routine, to ascend and advance.
Nature's song is always on
so feel it in your soul, and dance!
After all, you're the biggest part of it
Pick up those high vibes,
We can make an art of it.
"Hey loverboy," she says. I don't respond.
A rough draft excerpt from my story, Fictional Truth.
“Hey Loverboy,” she says. I don’t respond. I enjoy ignoring her for a moment after I come out of a day dream.
“Hey. Blake. Snap out of it boy. Time to come back to earth,” she says with her usual tone of pleased annoyance. This time I leave the world inside my head and return to reality. Slowly turning my head to the right, I can see those deep green eyes gazing up. I never get tired of her eyes.
“Come on, you said you’d help me here.”
“Sorry,” I say with a half grin and my best attempt at contrition. I look down to the papers in her lap. Right, math. I was helping her with calculus. She was really very good at math. We were in the same class, but she was two years younger than me after skipping two grades in elementary school.
“This one you just take the derivative of your function and plug in these two values.” I can remember these things effortlessly now, which was a huge accomplishment for someone who doesn’t particularly like math.
“See, this is why I keep you around,” she says, those rosy lips that I so adored pulled into a little smirk. She reaches up and kisses me. She always seems to find an excuse to kiss me. “You can go back to daydreaming now.” Indeed I do, retreating back to the dreamscape inside my head. This time I think back to when I met Clara.
I had just arrived on campus, a bright eyed college freshman. There I was, lost in a sea of more beautiful women than I had ever seen in my life. Small private schools had never been kind to me in that regard. Everything on campus was a wonder. Nobody from my high school had come here and I was very much alone, but I didn’t mind. I had outgrown most of my high school friends long ago. It was long past time for me to expand my horizons.
I found myself standing in front of a massive glass building. I wasn’t past checking my reflection in the glass windows. Had to make sure my hair still looked as good as it did when I arrived. Who knew when I might run into some attractive young lady? Opening the doors I caught a waft of the bookstore smell, unlike anything I expected. At home the bookstores were small, with dusty leather covers that begged to be handled and old people that smelled like coffee. This was completely different. The odor of panicked freshman and newly bound textbooks permeated the air. I decided right then I wouldn’t be spending much time there.
There was a long line extending towards the back of the building. Not knowing better, I assumed it was the line I was supposed to be in and slowly made my way to the rear. This would take forever. I pulled out my phone and started on another game of Angry Birds. I had been killing evil pigs for almost five minutes when I began to feel like I was being watched. Sure enough I glanced up to see a large pair of deep green eyes looking at me.
“You know, some psychologists say that technology is making us less social,” said the girl looking up at me. I couldn’t respond. She had straight black hair pulled behind her in a long ponytail. She had a small, perfectly formed nose with what seemed like a sea of freckles on it. Even more freckles danced on her cheeks. She was several inches shorter than me, maybe 5’9” and had on tight jean shorts and a black tank top that exposed only the most tantalizing amount of cleavage.
“So I’m just starting to feel a little uncomfortable with you undressing me with your eyes like that,” she said with the smirk on her face that I would soon come to know.
“Sorry,” I said, a tiny grin tugging at the corner of my mouth, “You surprised me a bit.”
“I’m Clara. This is the point in conversation where you tell me your name.” I liked her already. She had confidence and wit that was both abrasive and attractive.
“I’m Blake, pleased to meet you.” Damn I was smooth. Almost as smooth as a wagon over rocks. “Are you a freshman too?”
“Yep. Just got here. I don’t think this line is moving.” I really liked the way little dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth even when she frowned slightly.
“It really doesn’t seem to be. At least I have pleasant company,” I said. Oh man I was so smooth! I was really proud of myself right there. It was hard flirting with such a beautiful girl. She seemed to throw me off balance.
“Well, that was the least offensive flirting I've heard all day,” she replied. Good gosh this girl was straightforward. “It’s a good thing you’re cute or I might not have accepted that.” Cute. Okay, I could work with cute. “So you’re in psychology 1000?” she asked.
“Nope, I took that during high school.” I replied. Why would she ask that?
“Well, you’re standing in the psychology book pickup line.” She said with a slightly puzzled look on her face. I definitely was not in psychology.
“Oh, Psychology! I, uh, I thought you said, uh, philanthropy. Nope, I’m definitely in the right line. Okay, that was a lie and I was at least 100% sure philanthropy was not a class. But hey, I was under pressure and I needed an excuse to keep talking to this girl. She looked at me like I was slightly on drugs but moved on without hesitation.
We talked about various meaningless things while the line crept closer to the back of the store. I was constantly mesmerized by the deep green in her eyes. I had always been attracted to green eyes but they were pretty rare to see. When we got to the pickup window, she paid for her book and stepped to the side, watching me. I decided to bow out of buying a several hundred dollar book just so I didn't look like a complete idiot. I comforted myself with the fact that she might think it was funny.
“Soooo. I’m not really in philanthropy. Or psychology. I just didn't want to stop talking to you just yet.” I said with a sheepish grin. Luckily for me, she laughed right there.
“Alright then Mr. Blake, what books do you really need? Maybe we can go stand in line again.” I listed off several books that I needed for classes.
“Calculus. I need that one as well. Come on silly.” She turned her back and started walking. I followed right on her heels, a goofy grin plastered all over my face.
That was my first interaction with Clara. We spent the next two hours gathering all of our books, and at the end I carried her rather large pile back to her dorm room. I was promptly rewarded with her phone number and some cookies that her mom had packed. Normally I’m very pleased by cookies, but the phone number was worth so much more.
“Hey. What about this one?” Clara’s voice comes from beside me. I lean over to look at the paper again.
“This time just take the antiderivative of cosine and solve for x.”
“Oh right. That's the last one.”
“What do you want to do now?” I ask.
“How about we go to your room and see if we can make your roommate uncomfortable enough to leave?” She says with a mischievous grin, bringing those deep green eyes nearer to mine. She always seems to find an excuse to kiss me.
for a long time
what the size
of a pill is.
I just inhaled soap for the first time
there were stars bleeding all kinds of colors
triangles were also whispering to me.
can we take a ride away from here?
In between window sills maybe, be
tween glass, rust, mortified wood,
child friendly paint chips, and swollen
crumbs of brick, the kind that just
Pausing for a reaction
A hateful acknowledgement of my actions
Jangling your nerves
For each and every infraction
I push the buttons
To a dangerous ledge
Forcing you closer and closer
To the cliff's edge
Happily for filling to my death a pledge
I push the buttons
Comes a loving embrace
Then retrieve from my memory
Thoughts better erased
The time in my life
Sequence of events
They gave way to my now favorite pastime
I push the buttons
A puppet helpless you will dance
Never again allowed the chance
To have a life without the shadow of a cloud
Prodding and poking
I shall never cease
The humming of my plastic keys
Who cannot believe
What lies on the other side
There will be no peace
My appetite for revenge will never be filled
So I push the buttons
This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S517(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby
I'm swimming in my thought like a new born child
thrown into the summer pool for the first time
my palms are the road maps I use
to navigate this sea I float through
the things I love are intangible and clear
they stay around to help dismantle my fears
I'm more confident than I am sincere
I see colors in the late night sky
recalling all of the unfortunate times
that I indirectly tried to die
and I easily form a smile
a long way seems short after the fact
and I've boarded up the door to the pathways that hold me back
I'm sitting out in the grass while the dew dampens my pants
I feel the vibration of the wind bouncing off of the plants
marveling in the sight of marching ants
I'm seeing things I've only thought of
I look around as the bees buzz
and I know now exactly where I come from
There's nothing I've wanted more than the ability to forget.
I've tried but I haven't been able to master it, yet.
I can't forget you're scorching touch,
You left scars, more than enough.
Tell me did you notice what you were doing, did you notice the change?
Must of, since you asked "Why are you acting strange?"
I never admitted, never told a soul,
I never seeked help- I turned numb, bitter cold.
Tried to convince myself I was strong, stronger than you.
I was completely wrong, you knew this, too.
You hold so much power over me,
I still can't comprehend how this can be.
You knew who wouldn't tell, you knew what prey to choose,
You're so clever, made sure you would never lose.
Do you know how indefinitely fucked up I am now?
Are you happy? Are you proud? Do you want to take a bow?
Your time is ending, your death is near,
You'll be gone, yet I'll always have so much to fear..
I want to hug a deer,
don’t you want to hug one?
Not really; the thought
never crossed my mind…
I have never wanted to hug
a wild animal
I just don’t
Why? look at them
their white butts
I like their ears,
like head wings
the way bats flap.
Can you at least understand?
That’s why you can’t write
from my perspective;
you do not listen to me enough
I listen to you;
I listen all the time.
I know more
about you than you
know about me..
I am use to it
…If a deer was nice
I think he would hug me;
I just want friends
that are animals.
Do you think they have
Maybe we can
be their family;
we should be family
who have none.
I bet the deer can sense us.
what animals think about?
Are there thoughts,
or is it all just
I wish they thought about hugging me…
I wonder if there is a baby hiding
between the two
I bet there is a dad somewhere
completely obvious, but we
cannot see him because we
are weak humans.
if a deer breaks a leg?
It gets left behind, which
is sad ‘cause humans break
bones all the time.
What if we left a person
behind?—See you later bro…
What are you writing
down so furiously?
I want to understand.
Push ourselves to the point of exhaustion
time lapses of people passing colors scattering past
the rhythm of getting to the edge and turning back
in brief moments our short comings will interact; remember
retreating thoughts as beds sail with a restless mass
dawn breaking through the windows
want to shut the eyes even tighter
why do we do this to ourselves