The third and last Thanksgiving poem

they went round the table
asking what are you thankful for,
arrived my turn,
all the easy ones already taken,
family food etc.

so they said give us a poem,
and I replied:

I am thankful for the
light at the end of the tunnel,
the eyes to see it,
the patience to wait for it,
and the words to describe it.

I spun the wheel
Rolled the dice
Lay down the cards
Clicked my heels together twice
And I lost
This time
But it is not always so

Life is a gamble
A complicated game
Of twisted roads
Unknown faces
It is a dangerous risk that must be taken

Bet your money
Bet your life
Bet your love
Roll the dice
Shuffle the deck
Play the hand you are dealt

Up the Ante
Poker faced bluff
Hold them
Fold them
Take the ***
Sometimes you win
Sometimes you will lose
The choice to keep on playing
Is  always up to you
But if you posses the courage
Roll the dice



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

My heart swings forward
across the line.
The doors lock behind me.
Now there is no choice but blue skies or rain.

Then I wonder what heart "means."
I wonder why the sky is blue,
and why things bother to grow at all.

But "growth" continues its bored stretch,
irregardless of my inability to understand it,
and I have better things to think about now.

I have her.

Her and that little grin that grabs hold of the corner of her mouth
then turns toward me and opens.

She knows that I lied,
before I do.

She makes me feel like a little boy that ****** his brand new shorts,
and a man that's found a woman I know

I will love,
whether I want to
or not.

I still sweat in my sleep, and grunt when I move.
But she is there sometimes now (when schedules provide).

When I wake in the night,
a boy that thinks he's a man
just because I'm not afraid of the dark.

And the light breaks through the bull,
that electric touch,
"The Spark,"
she knows it in her deepest sleep,
her deepest dreams,
as they bend my own dreams into,
a new future.

I touch her where she is covered in my paint splattered sweat pants
and her arms open to hug me
before she wakes.

I feel the love like a child,
like it was always there
like it just might always will be.

Like God has spoken, but we cut him off 'cause we already knew.

We will **** and we will laugh like we have and like the others,
but there is something else in this.

She will change me.
I know this.
Into what, I truly do not know.

Our planet spins and circles.
Wars begin and end.
Multitudes suffer.
Microchips shrink at an exponential rate.
American politics deteriorate, dwindling down Democracy to a joke.
The Giants lose.
My money runs out.
My leg hurts.
The fridge is empty.
The house is burning.
The fabric of our reality is splitting in two, and in three minutes this world will end and we all will die unremembered.

I don't give a ****.
I love her.

There are worse things
than those that go
bump
in the night.
When the stars are too afraid to
come out from behind their cloud captors.
That is when the demons rise.
Slithering around your feet,
keeping everyone bolted to
their barstool.
Don't worry,
this will only take a minute.
An instant transformation.
Rise my monsters!
Rise!
Poison will be your undoing
and help you reach
a true form.
This is pure.
There are no limitations.
Be afraid of these ghouls.
They whisper and float
through the stale smell of
paradise.
They sit in neon lights,
waiting for the next round.
Rattling chains
as heavy as reality,
the fire burns down.
It gives birth to a new monster.
Just one more.
The world can stop spinning,
for one more.
The transformation is taking hold, it is almost complete.
Blind stares into mirrored walls,
watching as the everything goes black.
No recollection of
your birth.
Rise my monsters,
rise.

Shattered glass turns into
blood red water pouring
out of *******.

Life begins to
forget about
reality.

It is only at the end of the day
that night begins
to feel anxious.

Forget about the wind
and focus on the
breeze.

Oh,
the world has only
just begun.