The golden rule never gives change.
And gamblers only drink champagne
Losers can’t afford it
Don’t play poker with medicine men
Doc Holliday's a sore loser
It goes with his obsession
He's a dentist by learning
A gambler by profession
An' a renaissance assassin
A Medici Faustian bargain
Playing the green baize table
Where ten’s the changing sign
The alchemist’s calling card
The card of transformation
A card of changing of beds
And a change of friends
They could even be enemies
Fortune changes for the worse
An’ losing is a winning gamble
When hands like feet change direction
Losing yourself is the smart play
Sooner’s so much better than later
In time the world loves a loser
But gamblers hate a debtor
I.O U’s don’t spell for less than A an’ E
They’re just vowels without provenance
Gambling cashes in on culture
Money is the 'lingua franca'
Of a very deadly silent economy
No really one talks about it
An’ you can’t keep your eyes off it
But sure as hell everyone
Listens to the silence
Ten’s the calling card of consequence
A very suitable number
In Fire Earth Air and Water
They can be quite soulfully pedestrian
You never know what’s in the elements
A good card to keep up your sleeve
But lose your shirt you lose everything
An’ it goes without saying a lot
Not a good card to be found naked with
Be careful with a nine in any colour
It’s the most deserving in the highest
Nines, sleeves and gambling
Are a triple tray of troubles
Heads have been known to be served
On a tray of trays
Nines can be very Trinitarian
And quite John the Baptist
A good card to lose in haste
But eternal if a friend,
There’s none better
Eights go on forever
The Via Dolorosa of numbers
They are a sacred journey
Only the compassionately beautiful
Gamble with an eight in their hands
Eight is a sacred mystery
In any suit it is never cut
And always woven
From a seamless gambled-for cloth
Eight never gambles in suits
Only in garments
Never gamble with an eight
Unless you’re gambling with redemption
Hand life and soul have been
Eternally lost or found on an eight
Truly a gamblers card
And sometimes a calling card
As every gambler knows
A card of consequence and karma
When it calls keep your eyes on the dealer
Sure as hell a deal's been done
An’ all the blue eyes are on you
Sevens like fives are a journey
Good cards for travellers
Wanderers and shape shifters
Seven seas and five continents
Suits those wandering souls among us
Two solitary prime numbers
Indivisible onto themselves
They can be quite pedestrian
Fives can be over confident over land
But they shouldn't try to be seven
Walking on water's a mistake
Unless you’re an avatar
Treading wine is better and safer
Fives and sevens are a journey
Good cards to keep in your shoes
Sixes are sixes by themselves
An’ they don’t go with sevens
They're the card of reflection
A scriptural card if ever there was one
A card dressed in a triple mirror
Vanity and vexation in the curves
A card to turn and turn
And turn your eyes again
The number of this card
Another Trinitarian consequence
Is reflected in the mirror
An image of ourselves
The card has an identity problem
Don’t knock it, you might need it
It’s your friend in need of friend
An’ with friends like that
It's just as well that any three
From any four sixes
Is the sign of a winning hand
In a loser’s smile
And the best part of a full house
A card of Jezebels, angels
And mirrors, on reflection
Don’t you just love sixes
Five is five and let’s not talk about it
It’s an assassin’s calling card
It goes with its own territory
A card that doesn’t take prisoners
Fours are strangers at the door
Every one with a Matthew birth mark
In the image of John
Like four seasons they arrive
Like pilgrims then are gone
To change themselves to be
The same again, another season
Another fall of leaving calls
A card for all weathers
And shelter in a storm
You are kind of pleased to see it
But you don’t know why
Also cards of mystery and obviousness
And only fools an’ fours
Can tell the difference
It’s the ‘maybe’ card
You never really know with fours
The proverbial knocking at your doors
But sure as hell
They’ll never ring a bell
A tidy card to send to acrobats
And other kinds of well-balanced people
That’s what fours are for
Commitments tailored to your needs
And the occasional highly wired friend
Don’t go out without them
You never know if you might need them
Threes are trinities and divinities
Fathers Sons an’ Holy Ghosts
And more usually the cause
Of a quick divorce
The world moves in threes
Sattwas Rajas and Tamas
The triune dance of the universe
Light, Action and Inertia
It even grows on trees
Every one’s a traveller
Some are even gypsies
A good card to keep in your shoes
They can be an invitation
Or a visitor from a distant place
They're the taxi cards of the pack
Call them when you wanna go
Somewhere, they'll arrive
They're the calling cards of falling friends
You'll never be lonely on journey
Of five and sevens with a three
They’re the crucifixion card
Unless it suits you otherwise
To be so amused
Deuces are twos, the mirror card
Duality’s their basic business
They really are a wolf card
Always travelling in packs
Not sufficient to be dangerous
An’ just enough to not be lonely
They really appreciate your company
It suits their reflective existence
To travel in togetherness
The faces are places searching for aces
Jacks in a pack never look back
If they can possibly look sideways
Concealing their knavish tendencies
They’re quite the well-tailored card
Fine raiment maketh a fool attractive
In very unfashionable circumstances
Treachery an’ deceit on each turning face
Sure as Clementine’s your long lost darling
An Ophelia never got her hand in time
A gambling Hamlet is a sight to see
Jealousy rage and a ferocious anger
Writ upon a countenance looking back
Beyond the cardboard eyes of the beholder
Dumb broads are never dumb
And seldom abroad
Sometimes they can be
A very home loving card
Two jokers live in every pack
One out front the other looks back
They’re the magpies in the deck
Less in sorrow than in joy
They cover every missing face
The hooded birds deserve their place
Their reputation precedes them
In black and white they are the night
In colours they’re magnificent sevens
And they’ve really got your number
In spades it suits their harlequin fashion
To be a veritable grave digging charmer
In jewels they ***** the precious deck
Two diamonds and they’re everybody’s
The vagrant royalty rules the roaming pack
Their world is another creature’s finery
Gamblers are such snazzy jazzy dressers
If you have to lose a shirt do it in style
Second hand clothes and second hand hands
Aren’t so much a misfortune more an affliction
Desperately seeking a lost occasion
Well-heeled fools engrave it on their heart
Better be dead in your gracious threads
Than kicking in rags of common comfort  
They’re the card that always looks back
The face in every hand smiling at you
Looking at them with cardboard eyes
Then there’s the precisely tailored box
The transient funeral parlour
In a good-looking box like that
You can die an’ dine anywhere
In reasonable style
If you’re tailed a toss head first
Into a losing situation
Cards never call they beckon
And if they speak it’s a good idea to listen.

slicing the surface of your sun kissed
face, i used to nurture each grain and
crevice that decorated your profile,
now i have created the insecurities
that dig through your hard skull and
crumble your layered state of mind,
only for me to sell your pure love
to the fairer man. at the time your
prostituting was said to bring me
wealth and status, but i now sit here
in shame as you have been *****
beyond repair. although i deserve
not a gram of forgiveness, i hope
my patriarchy and greed does
not undermine my apology

-t.m

Yesterday I headed west
I left the sea      gulls behind me
they cried    so did I
something strong was calling
me home   where sacred stones
are planted strong
with words carved deep
inside my heart
I'll plant lillies   lay a rose
tell my Mother   I am home
and my brother  and Dad too
I'm glad to see    they aren't alone  
as I turned away
I heard a bluebird say
Son, don't you come to stay
too long     for this earth is cold
when the winter comes 
the ocean's now your home
go breathe that warm breeze
until the sun no longer shines
and the eagle flies   the gulls
no longer cry    then you'll know
the time has come   for you
to climb aboard and sail away.

Comprehend this rainy day, take it in, I can wait.
Soak in the water like a sponge, that's been under the sink for far too long.
And you look so cold and lonely
It's so unfair that a soul so pretty
Has to be alone in the ice cold air.

So hold me in the pouring droplets
Squeeze me hard I might embrace it
When you hold me close I feel less naked
Just promise me that you won't ever fake it
Staple my head to your pretty smile
And I might just stay a while
Place your hand on the dial turn it up so we aren't dandelions
I'm the sea and you are the sand where we meet

You and I are here, in a sorry situation
With all these limitations.
Our first world dream is nailed to the ground
Like we are on probation
The officers took us and they chained us under the nations numbing ideologies
Like all those witches in the town of Salem
We are the monsters that didn't even get a chance
To have our first dance

Its like music. The intro to a song.  The way the intro captures the creation of an emotion.  It feels the same.  It sets the stage and tone of the the emotion engine that is about to drive your soul to another place..

The blue star colored energy mist itself around me.  It connects itself to everything that is me. To my soul, to my mood, to my memories, and to everything that I love.  I then feel a beautiful surge of energy travel through every cell that makes me alive, every nerve that makes me feel, all of my beautiful memories that make me smile.  I aim myself toward the stars above, or the deep blue sky.  Once I have absorbed all the star blue energy I star leap out of the earth and take flight among the stars.  I take flight to destination FOREVER...

When the Last War began
It had been 15 minutes since the first missiles were launched and NY had no warning before it hit, entire blocks were obliterated, debris, brick, and stone mixed with flesh as horrified onlookers had only a second of recognition, before they too were nothing but melting skin, then ash as the radiation spread like a broken dam. A firestorm consumed all in its wake and deaths sister continued to rain down poison and rattled the earth in the aftershock of devastation.

New York City, Los Angeles, and Washington D.C. had been hit only minutes apart and the smell of fire and blood filled the rubble-strewn streets, those that did not perish instantly were killed by flying shards of glass, metal, and other projectiles. The smell of burnt hair infiltrated the nostrils of the soon to be dead as veins and muscle were ripped from the bone in an instantaneous flash. The screams caught in the throats of the victims stopped before they disappeared into flames.

Not one, but four nations had launched missiles in response to the sanctions, the isolation and tightening the noose of the military to strangle countries considered to be the "enemy," by the US.

But Trump's inner circle had miscalculated, the military, his advisors with all their combined minds never truly entertained the idea that Russia or China would attack and were confident the might of the capitalist US and its military would always prevail.

Russia, Iran, North Korea, and China had long been secret allies, laid their plans and patiently awaited the day when the US could no longer hide its intentions and made no effort to do so, openly challenging territories of other nations, promoting economic terrorism, backing extremist rebels and destroying governments. as they pleased and with impunity.

The lack of, "freedom and democracy," were frequently used an excuse for the invasion of unfriendly countries, along with the seizure of assets and resources, strategic position, or refusal to use the currency of the United States.

So they fired the missiles and dropped the bombs. The people of all nations had depended on their governments to use diplomacy to negotiate the differences that were the basis of the conflict. They never expected a real nuclear conflict to occur until it came as deaths face to their door, like a flash of red light before the darkness claimed them.

And so the last war began.

My first try at writing a short story

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby May 5, 2018.
All Material Stored in Author Base



All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby May 5, 2018.

In our small little peaceful village North of the mountains.  We found a new way to live. We got away from the Red voice army and made a new life.  We all lost someone to the R.V.A.  They were ruthless and wanted everyone and everything for themselves.  They overthrew all governments of the world 50 years ago.  They had super advanced weapons and just a group of them could take out an army.  

They called themselves the Red voice army because of a certain weapon they use.  It is a sort of mini rail gun the emits a powerful wave of red energy. The sound it makes sounds like a wicked scream.  What ever the red energy passes through will leave behind only ash.  Nothing has been able to stand up to it.  None of them can be killed because of a strange suit they ware. No bullet or explosion can break through their suit.  

It was a beautiful April day. It had stormed early this morning and now the sun and raindrops color the grass.  One of the new villagers who arrived a month ago was walking alone in the grass.  His name was Dalis. He stood 6'11 and must of weighed over 280lbs.  He was one of the best builders we had. But kept to himself.  A group of us went down to the river to collect water and and hopefully catch some fish.  It was then we heard the red scream.  They had found us!  

Everyone in the village was at a panic. There was no where to run.  They had us surrounded.   I looked toward the fields and saw Dalis. In front of him were 2 R.V.A soldiers.  I then saw a red flash and heard a red scream. Dalis had turned into ash.  

They gathered us all up.  Deciding who would die and who would serve them.  The old folk were going to be the first to die. They only wanted young bodies to do their labor.  They lined up all the elders. Pointed their weapons.  But before they could fire, a blaze of endless lightning danced around the fields.  Strange thing was there was not a cloud in the sky.  The lightning was coming from Dalis's ashes.  His ashes begin to glow blue.  And in a magnificent flash of blue light stood Dalis.  He wore a strange beautiful blue armor.  There were red screams everywhere. All the R.V.A soldiers fired their weapons at Dalis.  But had no effect at all. Dalis walked toward all the soldiers.  He then held his hand toward the sky and a bolt of lightning struck it leaving behind a lance made out of lightning and some kind of metal.  He killed all the soldiers in an instant but left one alive.  He told them to go back and tell the R.V.A that he is coming for all of them.  The soldier left running!

Dalis, He came from the lightning.  Or from somewhere else.  There is no more R.V.A.  Dalis made sure of that.  We are at peace now.  We never saw Dalis again.  But the lightning storms remind me of him.

They called him Sol. Sol is spanish for Sun.   He was called Sol because on our darkest hour he made the eternal night into day.  

They came to our planet and darken the skies with their megaships.  All key cities were hit all over the world first. Destroyed by impossible walking death machines.  No one was left alive.  They attacked in such a pattern that it would stray the remaining people alive toward a destination where they could be exterminated all at once.   In the flat lands of North Texas we could see them all coming in our direction from all around us. As they got closer we could hear their footsteps rumble like thunder.  It would not be long now. Everyone started to say goodbye to eachother.  

I had my eyes closed tight. I did not want to see my end happen.  But under my eyelids I begin to see red.  It was the sun above.  It shined brighter than ever before.  The sun seem to be coming down on us slowly.  It was a man in beautiful strange armor.  He then unsheathed to magnificent swords burning with blue and white fire.. He then bolted through the sky toward one of the walking death machines destroying it in a ball of white and blue light.  He then streaked toward the rest of the walking death machines destroying all of them leaving behind flames of blue and white.    

He then flew back toward us all. A beautiful sun in the sky he was.  His light was warm and beautiful.  He walked among us all healing us with his light.  I was no longer scared. All my fears were gone.  He then went after one of the megaships destroying it in the sky.  The other ships fled back to the stars.  It was the end of the end.  And the beginning of us again.  One of the kids called him El Sol.