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 Sep 2016 Tammy M Darby
Kareena
I am happy for you
Really, I am
I smile for you and I am excited
When you tell me every modicum
Of how he looked the other day
Or your intentional conversations
But I cannot help but feel inside
Like it soon may be over for you
Like it was for me, it always was
And I never want that for you
I want him to be the one you marry
I really hope for your sake he is
I pray you never have to have your heart broken
I pray you never have to live without him
I pray you never feel rejected
But I know your man is different
You chose the right one the first time
Your brain is plugged and foggy;
Your mind is on the freaking fritz;
The poetry is lost and boggy;
You hold your pen in woolen mitts.

Try a senryu about your life
Or a haiku on the froggy pond;
Cut through bloc de l'auter with a knife,
And slog out of the slough, Despond.

Sometimes it helps to focus long
On a single spot on the wall of life
And see what image comes along...
(I like to think of my pretty wife).

This writer's block's a funny thing
Tied somehow to the lives we lead,
And sterile writers need a fling
To let their stubborn poems breed.

So walk a while, or take a Jeep;
Visit the county fair...
Milk a cow or shear a sheep;
Wear flowers in your hair.

Or be like me and go take a nap;
Read a good book, or call an old friend;
Some poems are babies not yet in the lap,
Developing elsewhere, somewhere in the When....

Be sure they'll show up when they're ready to shine;
They'll trip off your fingers; they'll flow like red wine;
They'll sparkle or spark, or they'll whimper and cry,
But your poems will arrive, and I'm telling no lie.
Be patient, Good Allys..., the block's not an end,
Your poems are waiting ahead, 'round the bend.
(0; We've all been there.
 Sep 2016 Tammy M Darby
Mozalios
Fear has the ability to see your every move
Take the same path as the master but along the way change your route
Success derives from all that you perceive as valuable
 Sep 2016 Tammy M Darby
Anna
I could feel your bones as they ache
and fell in love with the sound
that they make, stretched over mine.

their moans and their whispers told
all I’ve ever wanted to know
without a word escaping your mouth.

could you love me, bare and true
without the reflection of you
etched across my forehead?

could you take these broken bones and
fix the mess that was never your own?
Because I would love to be yours.
At first I would have nothing
to do with him.
He waited outside my
small flat everyday
Soaked to the skin
in the November rains.

I asked him to go away
But he flashed his
beautiful Irish smile.
And said no
not until you go out with me.
I will wait here forever.

I thought a few more days
He will leave.
But that night I heard
a commotion outside.
He had a group
of Irish musicians
And was
serenading me with
I'll take you home again Kathleen
And
When Irish eyes are smiling.

I don't know when
I fell in love with him.
It might of been then.

All I know it was long ago
And they were
the happiest days of my life.

He sang to me everyday
And called me
his American Colleen.
He always
made me feel so beautiful.
I have lost my smiling
  Irish singer now.
When the sickness came
He just smiled
and say it was a bit of a cold
But I knew ...I knew….
Now on cold November nights.
When the Seattle rain is endless.
I look at the
bloom of the old lamppost
Outside my flat window.
Where he waited
and sang for me?

And in my head
I can hear his sweet Irish brogue
Singing so sweetly his soft celtic voice.

*I’ll take you home again Kathleen
To where you heart will feel no pain
Just me being unashamedly romantic again
Smiles
Jude
Dreams
Are euphony
Of thought,
Of heart,
Of body,
Of the splendid,
Of the soul,

(Unbinding our once
Spectral Fates
          That spiraled down
The Keys of Life
Tainted by
The Greatest of Dissonance)

My Redolent Reverie,
Sweetened by
Mellifluous Nectar Tides
Of cherished moments
Steeped for eons
In our
Carnal yearnings
Are made anew
By the Cosmogonist’s Hands
Of Eternity

(O, for I
Doth doven the skies,
That the Incendiary Wings
Of the Auburn Pheonix
Imbue me
With the Souls Acquisition
Of Golden Pinions
                      Of the Thew of Vitality).

Captive visions,
Slumber in
My Azure Dreamer’s Chest
Engraved with
The Insignia of Archaic Fates
Upon it’s
Starry Epidermis
Till skies fall
To the Terrene
And
The Luminaries
Shall rest
Betwixt
The palms of my hands

(O, for then
This Juggernaut of a Man
That I am
Shall Effloresce
Ceasing to be
     That Loveless Sentinel,
The Guardian over
The Bastion Heart
He fathoms
Impregnable)

.Ensorcelled Butterflies
Radiate
Lovelit Lavender Light
Upon that
Astral Parcel,
Lulling my weary eyes
By the
Sovereignty of Monarchial Wings
Vanquishing the doubts
Once blurring
My Kaleidoscopic Dreams
(Life’s Iridescent Seal
Branded upon
My forehead
And etherealizing
My exhalations
                    Till crystalline)

My sullied heart
Pulses shadowed winds
(The Sweeping Gales of Solemnity)
Without the
Blissful Kiss of Cadence
Resonating an
Ebony surge
Deeper,
Than first octave tonality
Of abyssal timbre.

I beseech you,
Unfurl those forested eyes
My Desiderata Materialista,
That I may
Drinketh of your
Emerald Streams,
Ineffably Pristine.

(For then
I shall be
Spirited away
      To Eden,
My existence
     Shall become
Nirvanic Transcendence)

To pine is a pang,
To envisage
Is to breath.

Perhaps that
Is the only solace
My feeble soul
Can bear,
Without you.

By your alabaster skin
Vein my eyes
With luminescence.

With your tender caress
Saunter my
Voracious skin.

Weave my Chrysalis,
By your
Susurrant voice.

Cocoon me
In your
Flawless serenade,
That I metamorphose
Bearing the
Sacrosanct Wings of Phantasmagoria
And
The Melisma of Your Piety.

Pearlescent blood
Floweth within me,
Like baptismal rain,
As I muse
When you alight
Once more
In my Cosmos.

I am yours,
Floral Fallal.

~Our fears are the burdens
    Of the Vestige of the Past,
      A hollow cry
       That fights to exist
         In a zeitgeist
           That flowers
              Quicker than
                Our hearts know how to beat.
                          
                     Unfurl your Gates
                           To the Arbiter of Fates,
                              Unearth the Hallowed Crystals
                                 Of your Garnetiferous Passion
                                    That takes shape
                                        Because you…

                               O, Stalwart Knight,
                                    You were cosmic
                                         Like myriad raindrops,
                                           Mystic echoes
                                              Emancipating­ your spirit
                                                 From the trepidation
                                                     ­    Of the mortal kind.

                                                   Evolve,                                            
                                Evanesce,                       ­   
                                                  For to be Ephemeral                      
                                 ­                Means to conquer                                  
That Magisterial Oblivion.
                                                       ­     Se’lah.~
Hey guys! I've been doing a great deal of experimenting with my writing as of late. This piece is an embodiment of all the introspection, musings, tribulations, and heartbreaks I have experienced as of late. I hope you all can appreciate this piece despite the quasi-obscurant references that I present bereft of explicit detail.

The core of this piece lies in the fundamental nature of our dreams, yearnings, and aspirations (as well as the shadows born of the loveless blight). It effloresced it something much greater as I continued to refine it. Hope you guys like! God bless!
 Sep 2016 Tammy M Darby
Oona
You’re afraid of all that river,
the way that it rains so much in Florida yet
the lavish deserts in California are dying. The way that
Juneau is only reachable by plane but
you can see it perfectly fine from Google Maps.
Really, technology’s a miracle, except when
robots look like people and one day we won’t be able to
differentiate skin from slabs of metal.

Wait. You’re getting ahead of yourself.
You’ve never even met a robot, though you’ve heard that
they’re out there, manufacturing our cars,
plotting an inevitable rebellion that will **** us all—

stop. Stop! Right now, your world’s peaceful.
You're fine. It's not like you have heart disease or, god forbid,
cancer, yet you still have this unsettling feeling that
the world is going to get hit by a comet,
and maybe this is it, darkness.
Maybe this is why

you’re so afraid of fire, steel,
of ambulances, thunderstorms,
roses, smoke, modern art,
the color red,
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