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"tamara" poems
... Is that as bad as you are to me? I relented not because I'm tired but because I believe that you're the best friend ever disappointed ... after seeing what you did once you know how the actual once you're comfortable with your new friend and then I forgotten? how poor I am I'm not mad at you sure but in fact you make me disappointed disappointed very very disappointed disappointed with what you've done to me disappointed to state that you've given me but one thing you should know I'm still here and will always be here for you my friend my enemy my dearest my sister my teacher my favourite my buddy, otis boyo suganda yuni tamara
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Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
disappointed
bindi's grace the top of her mocha forehead. wrist draped with bangles.      African soul. style so Afrocentric              afro so black panther fist high in the air she is black pride. she embraces the motherland with open arms and is proud of her heritage. music notes hidden in the blacks of her eye. she is music. hiphop and r&b.; tupac's  lyrics ingraved on her tongue. words of left eye instilled in her brain.               music gives her life. voice of an angel yet  she stays mute. black ink at her fingertips and a notebook always at her side. she is a lyrisit. she is sassy. press the wrong button and she's gone for a moment but will soon comeback to earth. a beautiful quiet vibrant soul she is indeed.  stubborn and mean at times but still as sweet as the refreshing taste of lemonade on a hot summers day. she is Africa. she is India. she is Haiti. she is black pride. she is music. she is poetry. she is wonderful. she is comical. she is lovely. she is classy. she is my big sister.                                     O.Rob.
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Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
ode to tamara.
HER ***** dedicated to Tamara Her bosom...so swollen....so full Bulging beneath her blouse Straining against her huge nursing bra I long to suckle her deeply, till the end of time itself Her ******* thicken....becoming so ***** She sighs deeply....her let-down gently washes over her She smiles...guiding my hands as we unbutton her blouse Her ***** takes my breath away Her bulging cleavage qiuvers at my touch Engorged.....veined I bury my face....my lust.... in her ***** Savoring her womanhood She unhooks a cup....her huge ****** weeping Longing for my hunger I suckle her deeply....lovingly....wantonly Her warm milk, life's sweet nectar Flows...flows......flows...flows Feeding my desire...feeding my love for her My love for the warmth of her *****
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Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
Her *****
Someday we will have DJs at funerals. I should know. I DJ'd a wedding once. Well I shan't say I DJ'd the wedding. I merely pressed play on the tiny boom box (SONY) and here comes the bride. Twas a beautiful wedding. A black wedding. The bride was my first cousin Tamara. Yes the whole thing was beautiful. Stop it already. A scant 4 years later I attended her death. A rainy morning. A call. Awoken early the morning sun not up. I have a photograph taken July 27, 2003 maybe! My brother her sister and I on a Carribean cruise. I'm sticking a tongue out. I was mad at the fine Bahamian wearing fake dreads making money by posing for photos for the non-natives. But if you bypass my tongue in the photograph you can see her. You can see the foursome of us smiling with some random Bahamian fake dread. If you look slightly left in the photograph you can see her smile. Her smile. Her joie de vivre. A moment if you will allow me. Away from the boat the Bahamian boys would not leave her alone. They would whistle, catcall, stare and menace. But she was my family. She was my cousin. Her protector and her friend. Those boys' eyes would follow us. But when I held her hand down the boardwalk they did not dare come within punching distance. I will refrain from her beauty. Her elegance. Her ability to tell me to 'shut the **** up' with only a glance. Somewhere buried I have the video of her wedding. I can't watch it anymore but perhaps I should. I need to see her happy again. Beautiful again and looking forward. United States
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 1:46 AM UTC
Fine China Breaks the Finest
Someday we will have DJs at funerals. I should know. I DJ'd a wedding once. Well I shan't say I DJ'd the wedding. I merely pressed play on the tiny boom box (SONY) and here comes the bride. Twas a beautiful wedding. A black wedding. The bride was my first cousin Tamara. Yes the whole thing was beautiful. Stop it already. A scant 4 years later I attended her death. A rainy morning. A call. Awoken early the morning sun not up. I have a photograph taken July 27, 2003 maybe! My brother her sister and I on a Carribean cruise. I'm sticking a tongue out. I was mad at the fine Bahamian wearing fake dreads making money by posing for photos for the non-natives. But if you bypass my tongue in the photograph you can see her. You can see the foursome of us smiling with some random Bahamian fake dread. If you look slightly left in the photograph you can see her smile. Her smile. Her joie de vivre. A moment if you will allow me. Away from the boat the Bahamian boys would not leave her alone. They would whistle, catcall, stare and menace. But she was my family. She was my cousin. Her protector and her friend. Those boys' eyes would follow us. But when I held her hand down the boardwalk they did not dare come within punching distance. I will refrain from her beauty. Her elegance. Her ability to tell me to 'shut the **** up' with only a glance. Somewhere buried I have the video of her wedding. I can't watch it anymore but perhaps I should. I need to see her happy again. Beautiful again and looking forward. United States
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29
my name is case sensitive adriana tamara is how it’s spelled sometimes as one word and sometimes as two but always as only lowercases my name is humbling as it reminds me that i am merely one girl against the elements i am merely one voice muted by wind my name is empowering she shows me that my mouth can never run dry that my thoughts can never go dormant my name looks small compared to all of the rest because i am small compared to the world even in my own perception i am too little to know everything to understand everything my name is my teacher is my guardian is my keepsake & when i think i know everything about poetry, about loving, about people she humbles me and i continue to learn case sensitive (12.24.2020) —adrianatamara
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Dec 26, 2020
Dec 26, 2020 at 4:52 PM UTC
case sensitive
There's a bridge there's a pond there's a sunset: that's all we want. Pour me some coffee in your night gown your soft city dress foreign fragrances, perfumes - Tamara! Your tablecloth crushes my soul as I lay to sleep on an old bruised sofa. Same house, same key. I embrace you as I tremble, as a man should. Like and old string I sing these songs for thee. A stunning vision has appalled me. Last night you said you missed the nights when I took you dancin' under the same moon. Well, baby… I miss 'em too. You said: "Do you see?" Honey, but didn't I see? I see you're gone away: and there's no more me. -T.M.™
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Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
Fear's our cabbage, honey
You enticed me, your neighbor, Newly moved in right upstairs With aromas of your cooking. And you invited me to share. We started then to get close Like brother and sister were we That had different parents But still becoming family. I ******* about all and sundry You smiled and said let it go. I complained about the heat You laughed and told me “Go Down to the beach and play; Get wet and come on back Then remember Missouri And see what little you lack.” And, nobody laughed so, Delighted with my every jest. Never remembered punch lines Yet swore mine were the best. If I passed near her doorway I was urged to come inside. This was the very doorway Where camaraderie did abide. So, for a decade we took Samples of what we cooked Up and down the stairs To each other and each took That deep and abiding pleasure Of having someone upstairs Who had that cup of sugar Or that butter we could share. I live today with gratitude; I was blessed, for however long To listen to the lovely music Of friendship’s gentle song. I will miss the coffee shops And boulevard people watching. I need to stop this for now as My throat seems to be catching.
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Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 2:28 AM UTC
ALOHA TAMARA
You can just get out of my face. Your response to some one not liking you, is to not like them back. Here's a thought, why don't you try changing the way you act. You may be a friend of a friend but that alone does not garner respect. I call you 'Tomorrow' because that's when I want to see you and every body knows tomorrow never comes. You had better hope that some of the things that you say come back to haunt you because nowadays not too many even what to say boo to you. © 2012 All rights reserved.
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Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 2:38 PM UTC
Tomorrow (for Tamara)
Tamara is slowly dying from aids She got it passed down from Her ancestors that were enslaved She quit easily because she had no one to come to her aid  No doctors no hospitals just a lonely maid  She's dying what to do? She's alone without a clue.. She's scared, afraid of death From inside , out there's close to nothing left She closed her only eye and asked god why?! "I'm innocent can't you hear my cry?!"  There's worse ppl out there why do I have to say goodbye..  It's not fair lifes not fair  My personality is way passed rare , but No one else cares  its just pointless Your not a judge so try to point less..  She has feelings to she  is  even still god blessed Just cursed from the devil to never let her soul rest.. No more im done wheres the rope I'm not pushing on because I lost all hope She heard the winds voice say nope She asked again give me the rope I have no more hope,, I'm alone and I need some to help me cope Idc if I die just help me through this  I don't want to be alone through this  I don't have anyone but I still feel like I miss  Someone.. Just give me a kiss.. No one would take the risk Except one.. Never thought exist A powerful holy son Gave her a kiss.. Now Tamara sleeps in heaven with nothing to miss.....
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May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 10:35 AM UTC
Tamara
In last November 2015 a friend of mine named Bridget died and Her partner sadly misses her And on August 12 2016 Bridget Was reincarnated as Michael Townsend son of Alice and brother of Toby Townsend You see it is my work as Cronus to bring Bridget back into the world as Michael Townsend And another mate of mine that died last year was Steve Grigor And September 6th 2016 Steve Grigor was reincarnated as Ethan felix Vaughan You see as soon as Steve died Bridget took him by the hand and they shared many a methane smoothie together So their bodies can improve the quality of their life and now Bridget's mother is Alice and Steve is son of Tamara and Henry Here is a welcome to earth song to Bridget and steve's soul Welcome welcome welcome You drink your methane and you have a lot of fun And now you have been reincarnated into your new life Death isn't the end It is a new beginning So let's party with Michael and Ethan
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Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 9:29 AM UTC
reincarnation rebirth, cool, man
She is the devil in thin disguise, she will prattle on "oh the greatness of his being", but her clothing is stitched with lies and her nakedness is obscene. I call her 'tomorrow' because that is when I want to see her. Everybody knows tomorrow never comes. © 2012
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Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 1:41 PM UTC
Tomorrow (for Tamara) Part One
Let’s Take A Moment to Celebrate Mother’s Day. Although I keep hearing everyday is a celebration that’s true. Everyday my Mother never stop loving me. How about you? From the day I was born to how I’m living now. I thank God that my Mother’s strong and still around. I miss my Mother’s Mother (my grandma) without a doubt. R.I.P. Myrtle C. Pringley the moments we had is still with me. Motion pictures to still memories I still press play. I remember grandma after you passed in my dreams you visited me. In my dreams you gave me a ride home and told me you were okay. The odd thing is where I live now. When you were alive you didn’t know where I stayed. So it’s not a hidden memory that was misplaced. Thank You God and my Grandmother for a blessing daughter. Thank You God for always having your angels around her. Even when she didn’t know of your presence. No matter which path she followed God had engraved. How and the 5 W’s the day she would get saved. I remember the day she was introduce to LOJ. From then to now she still walks his way. Following the Holy road to heaven. The only road to heaven and covered in his presence. I really didn’t mean to write this long. But I guess I wanted to express exactly where I came from. Tamara (my lady) always say my Mother and I is exactly alike. So I get a little glimpse of what her life was like. I don’t mind if we’re alike because my Mother I love. Thank You God and Grandmother from the heavens above. To: Lauren C. Osgood (I Love You Always) HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!
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May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 7:19 AM UTC
To My Mother
Let’s Take A Moment to Celebrate Mother’s Day. Although I keep hearing everyday is a celebration that’s true. Everyday my Mother never stop loving me. How about you? From the day I was born to how I’m living now. I thank God that my Mother’s strong and still around. I miss my Mother’s Mother (my grandma) without a doubt. R.I.P. Myrtle C. Pringley the moments we had is still with me. Motion pictures to still memories I still press play. I remember grandma after you passed in my dreams you visited me. In my dreams you gave me a ride home and told me you were okay. The odd thing is where I live now. When you were alive you didn’t know where I stayed. So it’s not a hidden memory that was misplaced. Thank You God and my Grandmother for a blessing daughter. Thank You God for always having your angels around her. Even when she didn’t know of your presence. No matter which path she followed God had engraved. How and the 5 W’s the day she would get saved. I remember the day she was introduce to LOJ. From then to now she still walks his way. Following the Holy road to heaven. The only road to heaven and covered in his presence. I really didn’t mean to write this long. But I guess I wanted to express exactly where I came from. Tamara (my lady) always say my Mother and I is exactly alike. So I get a little glimpse of what her life was like. I don’t mind if we’re alike because my Mother I love. Thank You God and Grandmother from the heavens above. To: Lauren C. Osgood (I Love You Always) HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!
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31
The wind blows smoke on a darkened day From a pyre for deeds once done. I sit in the silence drinking my mead Shadowed by the dying sun I watch the phantoms dance the wall In the grace of one so fare Wrapped in dusk and a violet mood With lightening lancing her hair Why do I stare She whispers to me Oh do I dare to show her All that I see She catches my mind with a grasping smile And speaks with gesture of hand In her eyes I swim the shining sea And walk the ancient sands Peace I seek and I found it there And so here I shall always stay As starlight blazes from her soul Only hell shall bar my way And why do I stare She whispers to me Oh do I dare to show her All that I see
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Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 9:42 PM UTC
Tamara
I sit In front of your gate I sit Many of your walls clear the clouds While other tops are underground But there is no where else I'd rather be In front of your gate The place of sacred permission All for a chance A chance to behold The source of your light Very for its very warmth alone Has captivated me So I sit Legs crossed Spine straight Palms open Resting upon my knees They are not stretch in tension Yet They Go on... Like fields of suflowers awaiting your light My eyes are open but please believe me when I say I need not sight to perceive your brightness My ears are open I dedicated to your speech And the other To my own heartbeat Cause, the heart better understands How silence speaks And my soul Has taken hold of my breathe My tounge My lips So Love drips and it pours Warm like summer rain Oh guardian of the gate You might have heard them say that This one Is a madman And if Madness is Love for the light we all have within Then I Am a madman And this madness Is bliss So if you wish Put your swords upon my throat Your spears to my heart Arrows aimed at my head I mind not But please Please Allow me to sit here Speaking of the madness that is light And Love But if you wish for me to leave I will leave Spine straight Palms open Like fields of sunflowers Awaiting your light.
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Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 8:30 PM UTC
For Tamara