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When Darkness Comes Calling
And You're Cold n Alone
Just Strike Your Flint
Across My Heart Of Stone
Sometimes, all you need is a spark of light to see where you're going
Solem vow to which I owe
Lost to all unless all is given
Fearful mute is all I am
Coward among the blind
Whimpering lion hides in is den
The passer-by, nose up, grins

On the Rock to whom I'm grounded
I sit among the thorns
The unscathed one they'll call me
Omega is calling and thunder is near
Last note to you I must plead
Loose the grip and dine with adoration
She carved the words into her skin that she couldn't say out loud and she painted murals on her arms that she couldn't draw on paper. Watercolor portraits of blood and tears. She was an artist in the most tragic of ways.
 Feb 2016 Tammy M Darby
Darcy
Depression?
It's like a vacuum in your soul
Where you can't breathe.

Depression?
It's like disguising yourself as a daydream
When the nightmare is inside you.

Depression?
Is when you fall into the depths of your fears
And never be able to crawl out of it.

Depression?
Is repeating, every single day:
"I am fine."
 Jan 2016 Tammy M Darby
SE Reimer
~

bits and pieces,
lines and creases,
dusty shelves
of storied past;
where could-haves
turned should-haves,
make half-lives gone by.
haunt in our reticence,
expressed in our sigh;
they hide in our silence,
betrayed by our tears,
from missed opportunities
     down through the years.

this is no stroll
o’er memory’s lane,
but a ***-holed, hard-roll
on a boulevard unnamed,
     where deepest regrets
          must defend against shame.

~

i make my peace
by drawing a line,
before it can fade
shifting with time.
i say “enough!
this far and no more!”

i give it my heel
and walk out that door.
past the garden,
past the fences,
to the edge of my mind,
resolve saying, “goodbye”  
      to this pain i have known.

then for reasons unfathomed
i turn at the bend,
to see what i'll miss
as if that place were my friend,
yet that house where i lived
so long and knew well,
was standing no longer,
up in smoke, gone in flames,
     now just ashes and bricks
          are all that remained.

~

so homeless i felt,
with no place to return.
no basement to bury
the ghosts of my past;
no attic to wander,
no hallways to creep,
no corners to ponder,
no front porch to weep,
lost without home,
     now no pillow to sleep.

“please turn around,”
spoke, a voice on the breeze
“there's a new life ahead”
and then, to my relief,
“you're not homeless, my son;
you’ve a new windowed view!
square your shoulders
to the pathway,
see the journey anew!
in promising thoughts
so hopefully wrought
of brand new can-be’s
that only dreamers can see
these, are your new life
you're not abandoned, but free.
     let regrets turn to fuel
          build steam from this fire.”


~

as i turned back to thank
the voice offering these words
i found no sage of advice
but here’s what i heard.
"offer thanks to your own heart,
to strength buried within.
the matches lay dormant
’til your heart found its stremgth.
the mere act of leaving
was the spark for your fire;
     for in striking your new path
          your past built your pyre.”


~

*post script.

after much stirring, much wrestling, we are now with anticipations imagining what will change as we light the fire.  i’m excited about the possibilities as we let go.
 Jan 2016 Tammy M Darby
Aditi
A.
 Jan 2016 Tammy M Darby
Aditi
A.
A quiet morn
A girl full of distraught
A blue sky
And a grey soul.


A glass window
A peek Into the outer world
Innumerable statues
With a beating heart.

A lonely walk
Into the mind
Vivid scenery
And a dull light in the eyes

Blank pages
And the indigo ink seeping through
The more you bleed out
The less empty it feels

A dusty road
With forgotten footprints
A lost summer
With many unheard stories

A race
With no definite end point
A ticking bomb
Waiting to explode

A quiet night
And a girl full of distraught
A sky like graveyard
Stars being the buried dreams
the trauma of completing the novel caused me to write this
I said something profound the other day,
So someone asked me, “Are you God?”
Well, strange as it may seem, I might be!

It’s possible, if unlikely, that I’m the Only One;
A Matrix Hero if you like,
That Everything Else is but a figment from my Super Id:
Perish the thought.

Yet I’ve precious little power
In this world around me now.
I’m just as helpless
As in my dreams.

I’m Not the God Religious folk talk of:
Omnipotence does not spring here.
Dare I suggest, though,
That God isn’t all He’s cracked up to be?

I’ve said before, maybe we All are part of God:
His eyes, ears and touch.

But what IS God?
I have to ask.
We each define Him (or Her, or It)
In our own way.

There must be higher powers
Of some sort
And Star Wars has its “Force”.

All things are Relative
And without end
So find your “God”
And make your choice.

Define your God
In any way you can.
But remember
It’s not your belief in God that counts,
It’s your belief in GOOD.

Paul Butters
Inspired by a question from Patricia Jackson, UK.
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