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  Aug 2018 Tamara Walker
Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Tamara Walker Aug 2018
Mosquito bitten bumps rise and falls
My finger tips pressuring soft cells
Hating how it feels as I take pleasure in killing
These wing foes
To them I am the terrorist with weapons of mass destruction
Not a terrorist of guns but one with pity and power to abuse
My feeling shift hotly from victim to symbolic hero
Everyone needs a bone toss in their direction
From the crude skeleton hiding within the dusty Shallows
Closet the feeling you gift to loved ones
Hush the happy times placed on the back logs of memory
Take note of polite strangers with words not your own
As I use them to speak a language taught to me years ago
When was my first word and did I speak it roughly as sandpaper
Or was it sweet to the ears with a buttery finish  
Am I too personal with my speech as this is all new to me?
Like a mouse with dreamy eyes watching the gleam off claws above
Silence is the key
Surrounded by much braver beast who riot into the night
I want to be heard
Mosquitoes are not my favorite.
Tamara Walker Jul 2018
Where is god in these swirling galaxies?
Maybe she is found in the peak of an eclipse
In a ball of gas in the *** of the universe
Purple moons orbit me to find he
Speak to me tomorrow morning
Rather I would say much more is another issue
Burning out the insides
Cause we are all made of star stuff
Very small piece from something very large called Plenty Words.
  Jul 2018 Tamara Walker
Nylee
What we really feel
we'll never tell
what happened
no one remembered
dance around the words
cut tongues with the swords
but we'll not say
we will always lie like that

We lie because we believe
we'll be saved in the end
who knows in truth
maybe we will be the first ones to die

it is for the best
we keep lies within the sea of lies
and when the time comes
all the lies will be pulled together
or maybe more the worse

every effort another lie
now no one is shy
the times will tell why
no one is surprised
truly now the trust has died.
Tamara Walker Jul 2018
An artist,
I’m scared to be left to my thinking atoms and nuclear cells
Why solder my raining thoughts to reality
In my head I can’t trust these clockworks
Rusted gears precariously tricking forward
Tensions unbalance on a pinched nerve ending
Hesitate I retract to others knowing what I don’t know
That once I start I might fail
I don’t do what I want to
I don’t speak when I want to
When I so desperately need to
Before I explode
Violently, into a void
Void of emotionless urges
An artist like me if I so believe I am
Doubtfully attempts to act in the face of thunder
Only to cowardly hide in a cat’s whisker
Inner bricking delays outer progress
Progress I provocatively flaunt to the alive bodies
While knowing the fallacious congrats is unwarranted
I don’t believe in magical rainbow kitten surprise wishes
But I won’t also hide my love
With the internal flame dimming
I want to act the part by flipping over the stones
For the mysteries hidden away
To see them crawling out
My untapped desires
This is a piece from a much longer poem called "Plenty Words." It's about my feelings as an artist without much to say.
  Jul 2018 Tamara Walker
Maya Angelou
Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Tamara Walker Jul 2018
I searched for madness
But instead found insanity
And images floating towards my popcorn ceiling
Lukewarm soap bubbles
Reflecting my ******* face  
Elaborate on the details of a story
Too many stories
Few told accurately
Some forgotten for years behind the couches
Excavated and place in museums
This is apart of a much larger and longer poem called Plenty Words.
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