He
Broke my wings
So I couldn’t

Fly

So I stole his soul
So he couldn’t

Die

From the void of infinity,
I retrieved words desperately sought
Craving the full impact of my letters
No matter the harm to my soul it wrought

An obsession forces me from my slumber bed rise
Depicting on paper visions of monsters and warrior queens
That emerges from deep long dreams
And where the magic lies.

Sleep reveals those who breathe
And yet emotionally dead
Shuffling through the world
Unknowing and uncaring
Frightening normal with dread

As the ribbons of heliotrope crept closer before falling
Pausing
I heard the ghost of my pen calling

They found me quite cold
Window sash blowing
Ink on my fingers
Hunched over my desk

A story unfinished
Fellow Poets
I leave you to imagine the rest

@Copyright Tammy M. Darby Jan. 5, 2019

Does the true being of self to consciousness cling
Disappearing suddenly when reality so elusive sings
Pride covet words in anticipation of the ultimate ascension  
Daring to imperil it all for ink and pen
Ignoring the warnings
A poets world rarely mentioned


We discard with little effort what imparts to us conventionality and vague interest
Desiring instead to reminisce on that which tortures and haunts us
It is by choice we reside freely and roam in unknown dimensions
Artists of our experiences
A poets world rarely mentioned


Many will condemn with ridicule and scorn
Those who exist in the universe of the word
As we climb the stairs to the dreamworld
Closed to those deficit in imagination
Only the ingenious may enter
Virtuosos of the mind and heart
A poets world rarely mentioned

@ copyright Tammy M Darby Dec. 29, 2018.

Sailing through purple skies unhindered
And breathe crystal snowflake frosted air
Floated past the mysterious Weeping Mountains
And yellow forests called Warlocks Fair

Trembling
Wandered the underworld
Drunk with false courage from Cretan wine
Leapt bravely from star to star
Journeyed through red starred scattered galaxies
Witnessing the birth and death of time

The finality of the forever feared tolling
The ringing of deaths solemn bell
Conjured this was in my mind quite carefully
For I am she who tells the tale

Commanding the heavens and the earth with my pen
To me the four winds bow low and kneel
The water robed river nymphs pirouette
  Wild horned stags vault high to my music
You must admit the scene quite captivating and surreal

The moon kiss my cheek with shy affection
Apollo grace me with a sunburst arrow of gold
Syrian lotus seed the door to the universe
  Held tightly in small clutching hands
Where lies stories soon to be told

  She who tells the tale
Sprung from blood of ancient lands
Portraying in ink and script
The dark images of man.

@ Copyright Tammy M. Darby Dec. 12, 2018.