Some died in the Spring;
and some by the river, deep
in Winter beneath a bridge.
Some died alone by a tree
behind a repossessed house;
and some with their cats
at home, quiet as a mouse.
Some died reading bills
that come in the mail;
and some reading the part
number, reaching for a fan
belt hanging on a nail.
Some died with a flyswatter
in hand, toilet paper in a screen
door, dead flies on the floor;
and some like heat lightning,
fast as a sick baby’s breath.
Some died without a warm, caring
woman’s hand on a forehead;
and some sharing a last cigarette.
She, my old lover who loved danger,
died on the side of the road
in the arms of a stranger.

The working man
Carries the weight of the country on his back
Works half his life to pay government tax
Taxes for death
Taxes for war
Rue the day when the working man
Says
No more

Stolen their hard earned wages
Gained by toil and swea
While walls of democracy protect the thieves
In order of  power and rank

Homes repossessed while corporations are saved
Jobs lost by the millions
Living on the streets
No clothes for warmth
No food for the children to eat
How much more will the working man take


Hard earned tax dollars
Given against our will
Used to topple other countries
Under the guise of freedom
****

The working man pays for those who dont
The working man pays for those who wont
The taxes are getting higher
The working man now refuses to pay
The weight is getting heavier
Despite what lying politicians say

You should have listened to my words
When I said come the day
On their backs no more
Will the working man bear
Civil war is calling
There is blood is in the air


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

heres to another night spent writhing about in bed
like a serpent in the vast cosmic ocean bearing its fangs at each tiny source of light
a plethora of thoughts come to mind right when the head hits the soft stack of pillows
the trees and the leaves rustle as if sandpaper being scraped against a human face

and it leaves behind a deep unhealing **** that will last till the end of each sleepless night
be healed by the time the head leaves its nightly resting place to go out and take on the world
and the wait for the endless repetitive cycle to begin will begin once again
trudging through miles of globulous bile will again have the same lasting effect

as that of half eaten railway platforms and ground up browser tabs
elongated letters as they appear on the windowed capillaries of one's ignited violin
repossessed keyboards that belonged to aspiring writers who could never fill a page
with words that failed to even capture the imagination of the wittiest troll by the bridge

more words will flow through the sphincters present in half alive lighters
it seems this one needs to rhyme, so raise one to the brave baby fighters
streamlined thoughts finally arise as the mind clears up a little
here's another rhyme, this one might come off as a bit brittle

henceforth thoughts shall be placed with greater precision
there are ants residing in the laptop; sleeping with the laptop, a great decision
back into the depths of insanity shall we delve again
sleeping with a colony of ants equals terrible, piercing pain

My father used to say
Only the special ones succeed
So I sang the loudest
And the music teacher heard me
And I landed the solo.
And my mom videotaped it
And cried the whole way through
And everyone cried
Even me
Especially when I realized
How proud they were
And how happy that made me feel
And those were the days
Of running on the playground
And hitting my head
And being rushed to the nurse
And my father said
Well, that’s what happens
When children play around.

My mother used to say
I was born to be a star
So I sang the loudest
And wrote the fastest
And dreamed the biggest
And wrote a book
And joined the band
And my mother told me
She was my biggest fan.
And she hugged me tight
And told me she was right
And even when the flute gave me a headache
I kept playing
And playing
And playing.

When I was fifteen
I wrote poetry
In the dead of night
Inspired by
Cruel words exchanged below
Fueled by alcohol
And a daughter’s disgust
But sometimes
When I disappeared
Into the black-and-white world
Of pen and parchment
My sister would drag me out
With her new red car
That would later be repossessed
Because mother forgot she had bills
And we would eat ice cream
And never talk about what happened
To anyone who mattered
Because that’s what happens
When children play along
And even though the nights
Kept me awake and kept me
In and out of doctor’s offices
I would just smile and play it off
And kept playing
And playing
And playing.

My father used to say
Life ***** and then you die
And I never believed him
Because he also used to say
We were the only reason
They survived this long
But then one day
In a fit of rage
He leveled his gaze
And told my sister
He would choose her over us
And that was the day
I decided I believed him
So I threw away my book
And I forgot about the flute
And I sang quietly
And I lost my smile
Hidden among the pages
Smeared with running ink
Because I am an adult now
And playing is for children.

we're alive too
too alive to die
and we're in love all the time and my sister says life is a movie
and every movie has a love story
and life is about love

which is why I
will starve my ribs to Adam
will return to dust
will Eve your lips, the darkest hue of moon I've ever met
insomniac hips guide constellations to lucid dreaming
constant smoking and distraction
we gather in sheds and houses

in shreds the ways we forgive and forget
and weigh decisions, the weight of responsibility nagging at my shoulders
ripples of anxiety
curdle in my throat
it is Thursday
i let an infant pull my hair
i rub your sick back

I miss my blood/ my brother
detained
by four walls of injustice
know
one
knows
the
truth

but I
believe you
and now your family
in various states of uncertainty
holds the threads of stories that you weave
stolen money and crimes against humanity
repossessed cars
bottles of liquor
sisters in law
above the law
held up by the law
interrupted
interpreted
and moment we spent was precious,
we laughed and were normal again
the satellites in yr eyes
who knows what they've seen
what they choose to believe
their is such madness in our blood
it runs
thick and rampant
galloping in our genes
and we
live for a living
you alive even when you dying all the time
swollen tears/dynamite boot you/hungover father/ surprise maker of cigarettes and smashed porcelain
born again/seventh day sinner/ come clean out the water/ baptized coffee
working class hands hung the rhythm of the drum in my chest
the tornado of my soul

too big
energy contained not mine anyway
for you i would unlearn so many consonants
i would forget to speak in sentences
for you make moonly gestures
move me to guessing in 14 degrees with ward of the state AWOL passenger seat
spill yr worries sister
we are not alone tonight

you are so much of my blood when i forget what we are made of
we come from the same stardust
however toxic

Tying knots with my tongue in soft seductive prose,
A lying distraction as you tear off my clothes.
Stained body and heart that have long been closed,
Remains all in your hands, naked, exposed.

Trace my scars with your fingertips,
Lace the curves of my spine with your unsullied lips.
Drink from my darkness in slow, soothing sips.
I’ll sink my nails into your skin ‘til your innocence rips.
Hypnotise you with the rhythm in my hips,
Disguise my poison with lust lined trips.

Legs locked around your waist hold like ecstasy,
Shock your mind into a state of dependency.
And undetected I’ll tighten the noose around your neck,
Infected, you’ll idolise this exquisite wreck.
And hold my wretched heart against your beautiful chest,
It’s cold, all emotions have been repossessed.

Confused and feeble you’ll emerge from your stupor,
Bemused as to why my passionate grasp became looser.
You’ll stare down at your feet and watch the blood drip,
Now aware I no longer need this tangible grip,
You see this touch is venom, to penetrate your weak flesh,
Subdue another prisoner into my nefarious mess.

Grave fear; you’ll beg and you’ll beg to be free,
Yet crave incessantly to still taste me.
I’ll behold and admire the damage I've done,
Mould your heart into a trophy that reminds me I've won.

I warned you not to get too close,
I spawn destruction with every lethal dose.

All my **** got repossessed
By an aardvark in a leather vest
That he swears is only vinyl
But won’t tell me where to buy my own

He says if I can go six months
With no late payments
On my credit card statements
He’ll let the name slip

I’ve got to get my **** together
Or this cruelty-free vegan sleeveless pleather
Statement piece might slip away from me

So, these days, I’m
Dedicated to paying
This debt I’ve accumulated
Despite the social detriment
Withdrawal and depressive episodes
All in the name of
Improving my credit score

Until when?
The day comes up
That I’ve paid for the stuff
That I bought without paying for
I’m practically stable
By now

The aardvark from the IRS
Reappears as my remaining debt and interest
Dwindles into a less pressing account
For the withholding public servant
Who’s about to grant me access
To the privileged information
I’ve been craving for months

It was an Etsy shop
And they’re all sold out

I sleep at my mother's
My wife has repossessed
The bed and my neighbour
Does the plumbing etc.....

T'is that time of year when everybody spends,
pretends to the world that peace is reigning,
winning, lying, buying, crying.

See the mother crying at night deep in the dark,
her heart aching, breaking that love is not enough.
Love cannot be placed under a tree.

Credit wins, common sense loses.
For what? tinsel and a turkey?
Baubles and gifts exchanged in the sales.

Garish lights, plastic trees,
fights in the aisles for the must have items
Belief, understanding all transferred to the neon God.

Advent calendars lie. Instead of chocolate or a gift,
let's open that cardboard door and see the rift
this season brings.

On the 1st day of Christmas a bailiff came to me
repossessed last years gifts and left
the plastic tree.

Little donkey, little donkey
little cheer, little joy,
little donkey can kiss my ***.

Jingle bells, jingle bells
jingle all the way......to depression
oh what fun it is have with discount *****

Poor vs Rich, Belief against Belief
the homeless, the food-banks, suicide
hunger, fear, nothing a man in a beard can save.

It's raining.
Soft, cool knees hunched up against your chest,
Sitting there in a flowing skirt and knitted vest,
Quiet, at rest,
But you looked distressed, you look depressed,
Your momma knows your house is gonna get repossessed
Cigarette against your lips, unlit.
You look surprised the bus driver doesn't make you
Put it away,
But I pretend I can't see you
Watching night turn to day, your dismay on display
Hiding like a stray dog from memories of your mother's new fiancé
Last Father's Day when you tried to run away.
Well, now you're trying again.
You look weary, bone-tired and thinking about
All you admired, desired, dreams that
Expired and retired and why can't you see all the love
You've inspired?
I want to talk to you, walk with you,
Your skin is too pale, like chalk
I don't want your momma to hear that knock,
Empty face crumpling in shock,
People flock around you where you hit the rock,
The clock ran out for you.
Young ******* the ***** floor, feel like
No one adores you,
Feel hurt down to the core,
I tell you "This is your stop,"
You walk out the door.
I know I'm never gonna see you any more.
And next week, the weather's bleak,
I'm on break, I see your face on the newspaper,
Went to seek Death's mystique.
Raindrops sting like vipers, snipers,
I get back on the bus,
Turn on the windshield wipers.
It's raining.

I heard you're talking about
Splitting the fortune into two
With the silver revolver in her hand
Gasping her breath she's walking down the aisle
Burning red than fading blue
The odds of your lumbered existence fall flat
If only the armour was repossessed
By a harbinger from your mother womb
Would you realise the game ceases to exist
It's all in your mind in caught in your rigmarole of lies
Overhwhelmed by your streak of luck
You command the move to be played
If only you knew
the result already is checkmate
When the lady sitting across placed a bet
You lost it all to her and satiated yourself to her charm
But she's walking down the aisle now
Burning red than fading blue
Black and red you lost it all
You went home and pretended to be unscathed
But this time there's no way back
It's the lady coming towards you
With the biased musket at her disposal
This is not your gambling den
Here comes apocalypse
It's Russian roulette.

Stress the silent killer
Strapped for cash it always seems
Unpaid notice from biller
Repossessed, foreclosed and liens

Days of paranoid waking
Job, your kids, the homestead- health
Don't realize why you're quaking
Balancing act takes real stealth

The bill collectors calling
Day and night relentless rings
Repetitive thoughts, stalling
Heart palpitations it brings

Running wild are kids and wife
Brats- no control, spouse spending
To what do I owe this life?
For certain nightmares pending

I have a job, work all day
But look where it has got me..
Bust my **** for little pay
I'm trying, can not you see?

Take the car, shut off the lights
No water to shower there
Toll of stress will reach new heights
The level beyond repair

This whole **** world needs a change
Added stress we just can't bear
To the docs if you don't rearrange
Government *****, said it.....there

My childhood ended when my dollhouse got repossessed,
crying in the back of Daddy’s Caddie.
You traded your daughter for diamonds
and left it all behind in a U-Haul.

You blamed his haunting city streets,
and post-war reenactment dreams.
You couldn’t be the queen to his beer can kingdom anymore.
He flipped too many coffee tables,
and let the kids grow up wrong,
and suddenly wasn’t the man you loved in high school.
He’s just another excuse,

But this isn’t about him,
This is about you,
All 534 miles of it.

You’re a woman without mirrors.
You play victim too well,
and love me like the favorite chip on your shoulder.
I gave your title to a deserving stranger,
and you flew from my human scent.
I never got to tell you about the splatter.
It’s hard to forgive someone who’s never at fault.

But this isn’t about us,
This is about you!
All 534 miles and counting!

This is about your life in 5 year chapters,
and sweeping your problems under the bible-belt.
This is about looking for happiness in the small town Carolinas,
and loving another man,
and another daughter,
and all the people you don’t owe apologies.

This is all about you,
And what you’ve done,
And you will never be more than this.

Stress the silent killer
Strapped for cash it always seems
Unpaid notice from biller
Repossessed, foreclosed and liens

Days of paranoid waking
Job, your kids, the homestead- health
Don't realize why you're quaking
Balancing act takes real stealth

The bill collectors calling
Day and night relentless rings
Repetitive thoughts, stalling
Heart palpitations it brings

Running wild are kids and wife
Brats- no control, spouse spending
To what do I owe this life?
For certain nightmares pending

I have a job, work all day
But look where it has got me..
Bust my **** for little pay
I'm trying, can not you see?

Take the car, shut off the lights
No water to shower there
Toll of stress ill reach new heights
The level beyond repair

This whole **** world need a change
Added stress we just can't bear
To the docs if you don't rearrange




Government *****, said it.....there

Ignore me at your peril Cheryl,
but I won't go away,
You may date that bloke but he's a joke and
they say that he's already wed and
I heard his flat is being repossessed,
his cat is full of fleas,
I stress the fleas 'cause they're not nice,
a bit like head lice but all over,
a bit like him all over you.
Ignore me at your peril Cheryl, and
you're a fool,
he's using you and he's a 'tool'
and he comes from Liverpool,there's
nothing worse than that.

i have found an inner reality

incorruptible, immutable

soon to be repossessed

words float on my breath

but this is where i hide them

in this inner reality

for many wish to confiscate them

but they are safe here

here in the desert of my inner exile

The November chill touched and tortured his bones
The dark alley smelled of ***** and sour cabbage
His bed of stained cardboard was wet and soggy
Another night of bad dreams in this makeshift home

Thinking about what happened that long ago night
Trying to explain, to ears that were closed
Shame and fright worked together in the assault on his mind
forcing his eyes to cover his face with a persistent tide of tears

He could remember every hurtful word
“No! It’s just a phase”? and “I’d rather see you dead”
Discarded like unwanted trash
He was only seventeen

Sobbing in that alley tonight, remembering the love and the warmth of before
Before dreadful secret was voiced, before the love was repossessed
He told them about that boy at school
In one instant his entire life was gone… home… family… hope… all gone

Later in the cold of night, the car idling at the curb
Sickened by the thought of what he was about to do
But a boy has to eat, a hand on his knee, a tear in his eye
A broken heart in a shattered soul

Stress the silent killer
Strapped for cash it always seems
Unpaid notice from biller
Repossessed, foreclosed and liens

Days of paranoid waking
Job, your kids, the homestead- health
Don't realize why you're quaking
Balancing act takes real stealth

The bill collectors calling
Day and night relentless rings
Repetitive thoughts, stalling
Heart palpitations it brings

Running wild are kids and wife
Brats- no control, spouse spending
To what do I owe this life?
For certain nightmares pending

I have a job, work all day
But look where it has got me..
Bust my **** for little pay
I'm trying, can not you see?

Take the car, shut off the lights
No water to shower there
Toll of stress will reach new heights
The level beyond repair

This whole **** world need a change
Added stress we just can't bear
To the docs if you don't rearrange




Government *****, said it.....there

Streets are throwing a ruckus, clowns creep in the alleys; man I don’t think that it is even safe anymore for us? Valleys of shadows, no love in the ghetto's, economy is crumbling so excuse me for not being able to be mellow. Corrupt politicians, with missions of evil, man I would rather go to hell and deal with the devil. All about competition, all about attrition, to get people’s blind undivided submission. Millionaires with power over the poor, news is depressing, but yet people want more. Where are you batman, where are you superman, what has happened to this society man? Where are the heroes when the powerful people make us feel like zeroes? Where is God, where is the fundaments that established us, where can I find a escape pod?

No immigrants, yet we all immigrants, full of mischievous infamous vigilantes ******* out the life of the innocents. What have we done to deserve this wickedness? How do we get out of this predicament? Because this **** is getting ridiculous. Gorillas shot to death, Isis threats, are we destined to end up like Macbeth? Who cares about success, when you don’t have access to excess? Don’t think about it, just buy another white and gold or black and blue dress, and then have it repossessed. Nevertheless I digress, I just feel like this **** needs to be addressed!
Terror and fear have we fallen back to 1939, forever to be devoured by despair that clouds up the sunshine? How I wish to see the sunrise, how I wish that instead of hating each other, we instead choose to become allies.

Not buying what the world advertises, I won’t compromise otherwise I will become de-stabilized. I won’t become antagonized, I won’t be hypnotized, I won’t let myself become a piece of property that the government can control and monopolize. My paradise will not be had if I get caught up in propaganda, I won’t be warned to be silent like some kind of Miranda. I know my rights, I won’t be treated like mice, and I will roll my own dice, and will face my price. I know that this economy is on thin ice, and that minimum wage in some areas are going up which then leads things to become overpriced. Just hold on, stay strong, sometimes life will go back and forth like Ping-Pong.

Up’s and down’s, some stay idle where others run towards the crown. Time to stay headstrong, time to start getting along; it’s just one small step for man in the words of Neil Armstrong. This is where we belong, come together and rhyme along to my song. Try to change life for the better till we die, you will never know unless you try. Don’t fear the baton and the gun; I will fight for what I believe is right just like Milan. You can **** the man, but you can’t **** the dream or the idea, don’t get caught up in the cream, cut up that visa then run wild like a cheetah. All kingdoms crumble, be they can be rebuilt, life is a gamble, but I chose long ago to no longer let myself wilt. I have no guilt in being me, and I know right now it can be ******, but when we make it through I believe we will be happy

brother was fury ****** around by a pair of eyes.

god
the unsuccessfully
tortured
contortionist / was road.

bedroom was the trunk of a repossessed car.  mother
was not a single
speed bump.

hotels
were dry
land.  hotels

protested

abandonment.

silence was the liquid diet
of an orphan
whose insides

glowed
with traces
of paint
found only

in river.

father was the light that as a boy he was left in.
that as a boy
I predicted
in small amounts

by blinking.

Giving up on me like a bad investment may save the company you keep....
I'll accept my pink slip and empty my heart.....
The equity of our future somehow got repossessed....
Might be a joint venture in  an unstable economy of love....
The recession I feel almost instantly as I pawn emotion at the tavern...
But like I care my credit card of success always came back declined........

you kissed me until all of the pain evaporated
until the echoes of my past fell to a hush
quietly, suddenly the agony dissipated
like there was no room for it here
you repossessed the places my past called home
you called them yours and I called you mine

Heaven’s removal men;
Packing up the sunshine
into dark, dreary clouds.
Grumbling and mumbling
as they move the air about.
Dust sheets spread out far and wide
As their heavy feet trample
on a ***** sky.
Sunshine’s moving on –
It’s home got repossessed
by a storm.

Dormancy urges this vessel to
waiver in the processes of sight.
Each reflection an eclipse on
what is viewed from oneself.

I wish not to be repossessed  by
a motion where I'm a husk of
inactivity. Static in reality not
of my choosing but I slumber.

In the cloudiness of a mind,
I'm creating false versions of
myself, wisps of imaginings.    
But I see mirages of untruths.

I wonder like the spectral
apparition within an absence
of self. Weaving syllables of
disillusion, Yet  not of my words.

*"We slumber like death that is but a misplaced beat between both,