TheRealTamara

Symphony

The cavitron is singing to
Me, a lullaby of pain and
Longing. Feelings dulled
I hear reverb and clangs
Scrapes loud as cymbals
Give the big finish I hope
For. But no, not done yet
Tip taps like fork to glass
I am numb to all that now

Extra/ordinary

It's a process in which I
Turn my everyday events, 
Observations, thoughts
And opinions into poetry.
The diurnal into rhyme
Or at least rhythm and, 
In my case, an occasional 
Slant rhyme. Ordinary
Things into exceptional
Picturesque images. The
Usual into the unusual.
You know that all things
Are always extraordinary.
Celebrate the days, hours,
And always enjoy the awe
That time and rhyme can
Bring into our daily lives.

Awe

What is something others do that sparks your admiration?

Your moves are sleek
Your limbs are slim yet
Taut. Precision is a lot 
To demand from one 
Already on her toes. It
Is precious that you can
Maintain the ideal. The
Balance from head to
Toe, from outstretched
Arm through a perfect
Torso. You move as a
Definition of graceful 
Through time, space
Through a universe of
Beats and rhythms, you
Are music personified.

Honestly?

What could you do less of?

Eating is disorderly for me
Or maybe just a disorder as
It is timely to say and hard 
To acknowledge, but I know
True. Too true. I could do less 
By being more mindful, also
Hip and of the minute. In this
Moment we look to practice
Mindfulness. In my past time
Not so long ago, I would want
To live in the moment. Truly
An excellent place to find my
Self being. In the here and oh
My, in the now. Now when I 
Might find an order in food.
Here where I am attentive, in
Control of the fork, spoon, or
No utensil at all. Mind you I 
Should watch what I eat and
Stay conscious of what I do
More of that and less of this.

Love Recalled

There will come a moment when
All we remember of this moment
Is the time it took us to cross the
Street or the care we took to dress
Before we met. The time will have 
Passed without incident and the
Moment gone by without remark.
Remarkable as it seems to have it,
An event so memorable pass out of 
Our memories and go by without
A souvenir. We have no mementos,
Only vague memories of a time so
Important to who we are and who
We will be, to the us we became in
Time, after that moment passed

Impatient

Nine months has turned into
Well over a year, time in which
Time to which, time for which
I could claim I languished. I did
Not. I crave an answer. A yes, 
Yes much preferred. But a no
Is a simple acknowledgement 
Too. I feel we had a contract. I
Turn over my work, deeply felt
Poems to you and some one of
Your poetry editors says ok or
Goodbye, we'll pass. Good luck.

Holidays

It felt like Thanksgiving came
Early. And then it went. Oddly,
November kept going, and now 
It, too, is nearly gone. Maybe it
Isn't so odd. The season calls for
December to bring winter and
All those endless tiresome and
True holidays. Winter comes 
Acreeping upon us in the midst
Of all this. Squarely at midpoint
In time for a Mid-winter's Night
Dream. Turkeys and fireplaces
Stockings and trees. Ham for a
Christmas dinner or alongside 
Your turkey and on some tables
Lasagna. Side dishes galore with
Stuffing and sweet potato clear
Favorites. Snow? Did I forget to
Count the snow, flakes atop one
Another. Snowmen. Snowballs.
Fall turns into winter. Revelry.

A life, in sum

You are not your memories, although
They tell a story of your life and deeds
Time has traveled with you. You have
Traveled through time. Before and after
Then and now mean less than they once
Did. Time jumbles and connects, past 
And present colliding. In time, it's all
One. Your memories will not define you.

Shimmering

The whole world should glitter like
This. Like it does for us tonight and
Most nights when we pay attention.

Favorites

What’s your favorite month of the year? Why?

September its lovely autumn leaves.
October. November, let's give thanks.
Appreciation. December gets colder;
It's only warm in front of the fire with 
Stockings hanging. January. February. 
March, it's damp. April then May begin Flowering. June, July are hot but heat 
Heats up in August as summer fades.