The old tale wandered cross the Fearnóg moss green
The faint songs of the ancient’s druids sing
Woven spells round the faeries rings
Brian Boruma mac Cennetig might hold the throne
On golden scarred brow bore the crown of High King

Tuatha Dé Danann shimmering robed in white Bogbean
Gloved in moss sewn fine with buttercups
Coltsfoot garlands round their heads
Whitlow grass soft neath their feet
And heather pink droplets of drifting fog

Children shivered in anticipation round smoking peat fires
Awaiting long told stories of battle
Against the fierce black-haired Fir bolg

Rose the legend Hy-Brasil from the waves
Come the count of seven years
In the dreamland of the Irish
Tír na nÓg

This was written for my Family the Irish
All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby March 22, 2019.
All Material Stored in Author Base

Scholars of the script
The notably odd ones out
Greedily clutching our paper
Wooden pencil in hand
Remaining silent when we want to shout

Aspiring to write perfect stanza
That is always just beyond our grasp
Bearing the sidelong glances and whispers
That our undertakings often bring about

We are the Misfits
The Manic
The Loners
The Strange
Rife with depression

While declining to be mundane

We are the poets
The writers
Artists of letters
Courageous and valiant
Carefully treading through the veil of reality
Trying not to lose our balance

We are the poets
The writers
Singular and unique
Each having a story to tell
As we live our lives
A precarious existence at best
Between the promise of Heaven
And the fear of Hell

All Rights Reserved. Tammy M. Darby Feb. 1, 2019
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Does your soul writhe in guilt in the depths of the night?
Do you drift through the universe
When sleep gently kisses your deceitful brow?
In a fragmented world
As you carelessly dream
And I silently scream

Wandering idly with little thought of others
Stumbling foolishly from star to star
Closing your eyes to the affliction
Casting glances on hearts afar
In your dreams
Do you hear my screams?

Does your soul tremble with remembrance of words?
In the black of the night?
As I spread my dark wings of vengeance
Ascending fiercely
Into waiting fiery skies
While I dream
And you scream

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Feb. 25, 2017

With no conscience bombs were dropped
The bodies of children lay scattered
Hearts forever stopped
Home and families destroyed
Blood ran the streets
Welcome to Freedom and Democracy

They looked away
While millions died
The elected leader
By the US decried
We are here to help they said
Spreading their disease
Welcome to Freedom and Democracy

So they ***** the land
The oil and minerals seized
Welcome to Freedom and Democracy
The stars and stripes of death
Gently waves in the breeze
Welcome to Freedom and Democracy

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Oct. 17, 2017.

What then would be my crime?
Shunning loves shrewd face
Drenched with false affection
For the universe of words and rhyme

To whom shall it matter
If I am no more
The insects of social web?
Lying snake tongues devoid of goodness
Through their veins the blood of deceit ebbs.

If I should draw black curtains
Turning head forever from light
Abandoning consciousness
Locking and sealing realities door
Possessing no beginning or end
Descending into the unknown
What then would be my crime?

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Dec. 20, 2016

Watching keen eyes
No word from lips
Observing the world
Little notice or acknowledgement
As the weakening grasp slips

Blue burst uncontrollable into black
Light overcomes and then  dark
The perimeter grows smaller and smaller
As the whispering voices start

Living deprived of joy
An artificial life soon erased
Fleeing to madness dimension
Refusing to bear the pain

Offered as sacrifice
To the altar of insanity
My mind
With no resistance
Soul and heart reluctantly parted
When the soft whispering voices started



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),

Found my hand open with a bleeding heart
No pity seen in my cold angry eyes
As the hatred festered and lingered
Warm blood ran through my fingers
Affection drenched in terror fled in fear
No longer clasp close or held dear.

Tis an empty hole where the ***** once dwell
Woe to those who dare pursue me
For my thoughts rise up from hell

Shadowed moon and falling stars
Found my hand open with a bleeding heart
Comets red, orange and gold ribbon tails
Burning lights of love
In the bones deaths chill.

Cold hidden planets
Endless frozen forever nights
Loves tears of sorrow
Embrace hates delight

Shadowed moon and falling stars

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 July 7, 2016.

I will respond with the full force of hate
Forever shall your quest for peace
Eyes growing dimmer, old and white headed
The hour rapidly growing late

You heart shall be as stone
Love turn to dust in your mouth
No matter your efforts to make amends
Destruction of another soul
Bears a heavy cost

In the waning hours you begin to understand
That what eagerly awaits you
A double edged sword in avenging hands
For you took from me the ability to love
And your blood is the retribution I demand

So gaze intensely on the image
In silence
In the cold shadows
I have watched and waited
The soul destroyed that stalks you in the darkness
Is now the monster you created

Happy Halloween. Booooooooooo

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Oct. 27, 2017.

In the Land of Dreams
Where no desolation reigns
The heart is light and gay
Absent the misery of loves pain

The soul is unburdened and free
To tip toe giddily among the stars
Or plunge wildly into green salty seas

In the land of dreams
There is no echo
Of suffering human cries
The spirit is cleansed forever of its grief
Death’s hand close no eyes
In the land of dreams


@ Tammy. M. Darby Nov. 18, 2016

Why are the traits of creativity and insanity
An hourglass and sand
Is it an unintended genetic defect?
Or a simple wonderment of man
An anomaly of nature
A chemical imbalance in the Ribonucleic acid
A minuscule knot in the DNA strands

Many minds revered and unknown don the genius crown
The emotive disturbing creations of Goya’s dark-stained hands
The deaf Beethoven composing the illustrious symphonies of sound
The imagery of Hemingway before he felt disposed to lay the pencil down

Leonardo da Vinci the scientist and painter who dreamt of Mars
The Kaleidoscope of inventors, poets, visual and musical artists
The unseen silent ones who walk among us
Who glimpse and grasp for that which lies in secret even beyond the stars

They socialize freely with death and depression
That colors that taunt the fingers and feed the obsession
The impeccable word so elusive often sought in panic
Never-ending questions of the universe that must be answered
So comes the genesis of the melancholy, bipolar. schizoid and the manic

Why are creativity and insanity
An hourglass and sand
Is it an inherited genetic defect?
Or a singular wonder of man
A chemical imbalance in the Ribonucleic acid
A minuscule knot in the DNA strands

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Oct. 4, 2019.
All Material Stored in Author Base.

Is in the taunt string and the bow
Sitting quietly with anticipation
Between recognition and the know
The strength of the aim
The tremble of loves arrows flow

The art of Death
Is in the curve of the wood
The polish of the shine
Intent accepted and understood

The art of death
The power of man
Five fingers taunt
A deep breath
The release from cold hands

Unsuspecting quarry was struck
Continuous practice of a cynical eye
Dull emotions of satisfaction
Fleeting moments of regret
A small sigh

The art of death
Is in the taunt string and the bow
Waiting quietly
Between the recognition and the know

Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M Darby  3/4/2016

I did not curse you with the hand of death
The cloak of gloom
The hand of doom
Instead, I cast my spell upon your heart

Forever entangled in turmoil and strife
An unsettled wanting life
Weakening the beats will cease
****** to seek a love
That does not exist
Nor ever will reveal itself
In the call of the morning or the songs of the night

Vengeance comes in many forms
Lying in wait unsated to be called
It befalls the unaware when least expected
The war between mind and soul
Tormenting endless storms

But take courage and cease trembling
I did not curse you with the hand of death
The cloak of doom
Ghosts of the dark
For I have no pity
I cast my spell upon your failing heart

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Oct. 17, 2017.

There is no solace for the brokenhearted
The injured heart will not heal
It refuses entrance to happiness for some cuts run too deep
The concept of love now being too surreal

Alas there is no consolation for the brokenhearted
They suppress their tears and shelter their hearts
Turning their eyes away from that which they secretly desire
Denying the light instead keeping company with the dark

Pity the brokenhearted
For they exist in a world of pain
No longer being able to bear the human touch
Denying the very emotion, they seek in vain

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Sept 24, 2019.