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.

Eggplant / Aubergine

Aubergine, the breathy British
Voice reads, and I translate it
Forming the word silently, it's 
Eggplant, I hear in my head. I
Regret it sounds so provincial
In the American. Isn't the UK
Interpretation of the vegetable
Prettier? More melodious and
Exotic. I say that as someone 
Intoxicated by any food that's 
Eggplant-adjacent, it was with
A thrill I discovered pizza that
Was topped by large rings of 
The purple bulb, for example.
Aubergine on my pizza, does
That not trip off your tongue,
Easily, sweetly, with the total
Alacrity. Aubergine parmesan?
Eggplant parmegiano? Which 
One is more delectable do you
Think? Aubergine parmegiano.

Red

The Wolf grinned 
Sheepishly. The 
Better he trailed 
Off. Red loved her
Granny. She did
Not know what the
Wolf had done to
Her granny. He was
Not her granny, even
In disguise. He was
Wearing her glasses.
That was comical.
Red was worried 
But she had to laugh
The Wolf did not
Have a sense of
Humor. Red thought
About all the times
She and her granny
Joked and laughed.
Red said You look
Ridiculous to the
Wolf. He grinned
Or was that his way
Of wincing. All the
Better, he repeated
Red missed her
Granny. The Wolf 
Shrugged. He was
Just being who he
Was, Red thought,
And she sighed

Embraced

Is it love, or vanity that demands
You be faithful while I enjoy a flirt
Can you have my whole heart if
You hold a fraction of my attention
My freedom ringed by an embrace
Love should never be so absolute
As to exclude all other possibility.
Love is possibility, like an embrace
It encircles everything and holds
Firm the heart, held yet free, not to
Explore beyond the embrace but to
Soar in its inevitability, held free, 
Held fast, embraced, encircled in 
Love, exclusive but free to explore
Can you have my whole heart if
You hold a fraction of my attention
Is it love, or is it vanity holding us
Fast, faithful in love, free to soar

Topsy turvy

Rule of thumb, or follow the
Vernacular guidelines, in the
Patois of compliance, do as
You are told. That's a rule of
Thumb. Obey, execute, do as
You are told. Comply with, be
Observant and fulfill orders.
Adhere to whatever, although
It's not scientific or evident or
Based on evidence. It's a rule 
Of thumb, it approximates the
Rules that ought to guide us,
But is not so precise as to be
Demanding or insistent. It's a 
Rule meant to be followed on
The bias, zigzag, not a straight
Line. It's a rule of thumb which
Is not so much a rule, as a bit
Of a guideline, a suggestion to
Think on. Rule of thumb is no
Rule at all, with the thumb on
The scales, justice is turned to
Injustice, the scale unbalanced
Unhinged, the rule o'erweighed 
By the print of the thumb, rules
Crushed. The scales overturned
The rule of thumb gone astray

Thumbnail

Rule of thumb, yes, and
Does the weight of that
Thumb not bend, or yes,
Break the rules, pushing
Down on the scale so it
Moves, imperceptibly to
Injustice, losing balance
And a sense of fairness.
Scales of justice by the
Poke of a thumb weigh
In away from integrity,
Towards inequity, from
What's right to doing ill
Away from virtue toward
Corruption. That's a rule
Of thumb.

By chance, by choice

Crawling close to the ground as
Rocks rolling close to the edge
Is this a perilous path we chose
Or fell upon, willy-nilly, by chance
Or choice? Are we in a position
To make a decision, to correct
Course? Is this a perilous path 
We asked for, that we wanted 
For ourselves, consciously and
In our right mind? I, blah blah, 
Being of sound heart, have set
My journey on this course. We
Are human beings, and being
Human, we walk the earth on 
Two feet. We are always on a
Back foot. Humans evolved to
Walking upright, being human
We only crawl when abjected,
Humiliated, as if we were cast
Off, drawn close to the ground
Is this a perilous path we chose

First cold night. 2025

When the air is chilled, sound
Travels more crisply; that guy
Behind, who would have been
Loud anyway, well tonight his
Voice carries brightly past my
Ear. It's that kind of cold night,
Early enough so those out in 
It are not carousers, too late
To be coming from the office 
Unless you're inclined to late
Hours. Maybe you're strolling
Home from a dinner, or out
With your dog. In the cold, it's
Hard but walking your dog is
A duty. He probably loves it
The bright clean air. Some of
You put coats on the critter
But I think he'd be happier if
You let him out au naturel.
This little guy swaggers out
And down the steps, his guy
A coupla steps behind him.
It's that kind of cold night.

Average

The river at its most placid
Is eerily glassy, a flat road,
Unbroken by the rapid whirls 
So familiar on normal days.
Are there normal days, are
The days where the eddies 
Appear normal, and in what
Way are they so? Is normal
The unquiet moving water, 
Running up and down, or so
It seems, or is normal a bar
Too high or too hidebound

Your picture

You were my favorite subject.
No one could be more delighted 
Or more honestly surprised 
When I snapped a picture of you
Sitting in the sun, smiling, or
Pensive, always beautiful, my
Handsome man, my lovely
Model, always enjoying the 
Attention, the adoration I knew
You felt pouring from me to
You. I will never take a new
Photo of your serious face. My
Favorite subject. I delight now
At how many photos, portraits
I have. I can study you for hours
My favorite model, patient 
And willing, your photo alone or
With me. In a park, by the river,
At a baseball game or just at
Peace in the comfort of your
Big brown chair. My favorite 
Subject, I have these pictures
As a memento, memories 
That keep me company now.
Now I take pictures of all 
The places we visited together.
More memories, pictures I
Had taken often before.
Repetition is also memory.