Kindness won't break your heart.
There is room enough for you to
Show care for everyone. Let your
Heart and soul swell with love for
The strange strangers and errant
Fools who populate our world. Be
Kind. Be courteous. Be grateful.
The heart will expand to meet the
New, the sad, the joyful with love,
With kindness. It is a courageous
Organ. Fear might break it, but
Kindness cannot break your heart.
Author Archives: therealtamara
For an opinionated woman such as I, blogging is an excellent outlet. This is one of many fori that I use to bloviate. Enjoy! Comment on my commentary.
Goodbye, now
Does love have an expiration date?
A boiling point? A Finis or a c.o.b.?
So many love affairs find a terminus
Or an off-ramp that leads down a
Cliff to an unhappily ever-after no
One anticipated. Unwanted endings
That cannot be glossed over in a new
Chapter are sadder for surprising us
And unwelcome, especially when we
Unexpectedly run into each other
Across town, waiting for gas or picking
Up some Twinkies and chocolate milk
Birdsong
The rioting birds fill the trees.
Spring is, after all, in full swing.
We bob our heads looking where
Their chirps begin, looking as
If we were about to fly away, too
Ready to take wing for a higher
Branch. One hidden by greenery.
What do you do?
What’s a job you would like to do for just one day?
Daily prompt
Jobs are boring, compelling,
Competitive, exciting, tedious.
Jobs are a daily-grind, inspiring,
Inspired. Jobs are what I do, not
Who I am. I am my job. My job,
It's me. I am my work. My job.
Daffodils
The daffodils think highly of
Themselves. They know who
They are. They are the flowers
Of the field and flowers are
To be prized. They are special.
List, with gratitude
List the people you admire and look to for advice…
A list, no matter how heartfelt,
Is such a boring approach, but I
Get where you're coming from
And where I want to go. My peeps
As I call them, to myself, if not to
Them, are universally patient, and
Unstinting in their help. Always
Of good cheer and right to chide
Or redirect me. I go to them for
A guiding hand, in admiration and
With total gratitude. The list is
Silent but well-known among us.
Chance/Choice
Opening doors, closing doors,
Moving parts; it's a jumble. I
Look to see if I should slide in
Between what is gained or just
Changed and what is lost. One
Door closes to find a different
Opportunity open up. Where
Does it lead? Whom do I follow?
Musing
Where has my poetry flown?
It is at this moment on the
Tip of my tongue, at the tip
Of my fingers. Not quite ready
To emerge as song or theme.
Waiting for inspiration can be
A long wait, yet wait I must
Til it marches forth in words
Both poignant and colorful.
I hope for poetry's wings and
Yes, I wait with the fortitude of
A writer whose muse is near.
Emotional disparity
What are your favorite emojis?
I misinterpreted your emotion, my bad
I misrepresented mine, maybe worse!
The array of little symbols with which
To declare my position or understand
Yours confuses and leaves me quizzical
🧐 😇 🙃 😋 😉
Umbrella man
They used to peddle umbrellas for
Five dollars, maybe 3, hawking them
Whenever it rained. Their tones insistent,
A steady sales pitch of repetitions, Calling out the product they knew we Needed. You know you forgot it at home.
Umbrella... umbrella in the mellifluous
Timbre of the African diaspora. We have
Umbrellas. Singing out faster, then
Slurring the sound.They would say it Again, and again, umbrella, as if the words were part of the patter of the falling rain. "Umbrella. Umb-rella. Um-brellas. Five dollah. Who needs an umbrella today?" On a rainy day, this afternoon, Who doesn't need one. A small
Dark umbrella for three or five.
Tamara, really 