Post Office:
Telegrams and Telephones

Tell me how the snow is where you are.

Traffic cones outside, must-be-done road works completed by no one nowhere men,
patched up walls clad in grit painted cream
shutters the same, shutting out the screams.

Graffiti bridges, restaurants on ridges-
river's rising fast, finish your entrée
let's leave.

Walk linking arms looking upon                                    
glimpses of brick, of an old home,
lived in years ago by someone unknown.

Vivid visions of the past lurk me,
I’m walking on the avenues of once a quick man’s vision,
driving in car models a dead man thought
and voting with rights dead men and women fought—
for, we’re all living life through dead men’s visions—
books of laws and morals woven by dead men’s *****—
subconscious slaves to dead ways.
So ask me about “life” and I’ll reply,
*I’m still waiting to live like my master
for everyone that lives dies
but everyone that dies lives.

The unorthodox are the true prophets
for their ways are those of the future,
so in the now, most kings get their head cut off.

But as death is the greatest prophet,
for it never fails to come true,
their martyrdom proves their ways truer than the footsteps of their fathers,
so in the face of adversities;
never be afraid to be a lonely Jesus on the Cross.

In the dark their eyes glow
Shadows emerge from shadow
Cruel fangs they bare
You freeze where you are.
Now in the lonely zone
Phantoms from dungeon
Evils you slaved and fed
Would be glad to see you dead!
You can do little but stare
Praying an end of nightmare
Knowing it's too late to choose
They're already on you let loose.

From the shadows you emerge as shadow
The night darkens howling winds blow
Seeking prey with endless greed
Upon fresh corpses you madly feed!

Whole day I carry a burden of load in mind
A way out of this maze I desperately try to find
Rewinds it like a flashback in a slow moving film
Was he at fault or wasn’t I unfair to him?

Then there’re words that I would rather not have said
They raised some eyebrows a few enemies made
In course of the day they make me sulk and fret
Agonizing mishaps breeding gallons of regret!

Add to that my actions that might have caused a hurt
Sweet bonds loosening relationships coming apart
I’m tormented by these diurnal horrors the recurrent day-mares
Be sure they’re much scarier than any of your nightmares.

A strange and eerie silence just before the midnight train
in the distance rolling thunder, through the darkness,
here's the rain
now wind is whipping sideways, tearing limbs from massive trees,
it's a wonder, jolt of thunder, every man's not his knees!

In a frenzied call to sleepers, get your loved ones up, she screams
it's the grimmest of all reapers come to rob you of your dreams
and it's grinding up the ground ten miles south, a mile wide
and it's headed your direction, so you'd better run and hide!

So panic takes the front seat while we quickly dive for cover
and we pray for God's deliverance, 'cause no one wants to hover
and we wait upon hell's plunder,as it devastates the land
and leaves it's monster's calling card, demise of all things grand.

lighter than a feather, yet never made for flight
carried on this wrecking train through blackness of the night
butcher knives! and power tools! an airborne metal shed!
A rabbit cage! an auto harp and someone's unmade bed!

the stuff which neighbors value, all their papers, jewels and cash
have been caught up in the whirlwind, torn to shreds and churned to trash
it's then I hear the grinding of the wheels upon the track
and brace myself with others in the bowels of my shack

a locomotive bearing down, we hold on tight and pray
the shrill wind screams, you can't believe it's happening this way!
and all we care about right then is staying on the ground
and keeping those we love alive, intact and safe and sound.

The way it goes, no one quite knows the way it's gonna be
we trust that God is here to lead us through the deep Red Sea
though man's no match against it, we'll find shelter in the storms
and pray escape the reaper in the whirlwind as it forms

My face gaunt
I cannot sleep
Lay down
Eyes close
Only to weep

I am trapped
In a world of ghosts
Distrust and pain
Barely breathing
On love's death bed I lay

Blinded by loyalty
The assassin was faith  
Betrayal
On the lips linger
A vile taste

A slow demise
Day after day
My soul lies wasting
On love's death bed I lay

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. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. darby

I'm that friend
Who you ask to the mall
On those weekends
Where it's so nice
And sunny
That everyone's at the beach.

I'm that friend
That you walk home
With
On days
Where everyone else
Has mountains of
Homework.

I'm the friend
That you ignore
When they text you
Because they're so
THICK
That they're
Too stupid
And
Desperate
To take the hint.

I will never be your first choice.
But I can settle for last.

If it means
Going to the mall
With you
On those weekends
Where it's so nice
And sunny
That everyone's at the beach.

If it means
Walking home
With you
On days
Where everyone else
Has mountains of
Homework.

And if it means
Getting that one text
Saying that
You
"Have to go"
And you'll
"Ttyl."

I'll settle for that.