Sweet Son of Mine

oh You Sweet, Sweet Son of mine

I wish I could keep You Safe within the lines

protect You from all those hateful and unkind

people who manipulate the Truth they want You to find

I will do anything to save you from this curse of mine

natural Gifts we share that help us help others get refined

showing us how much the human race has fallen behind

in their pursuit of happiness that’s become “the grind”

you won’t be a cliché, “keeping your nose to the grindstone”

as long as I’m here upon the earth I’ll break every bone

of your oppressors, haters and every fucking liar

looking for an Energetically, Blessed, Shooting Star

to suck the Energy and Life from You because You are

so much different than any of them who try so hard

to find beautiful Spirits and minds that are so eloquently

living life as You were Intended to live from the beginning

going through miles and piles of shit never pretending

to be something you’re not nor what you’d never, ever be

because you've encountered so many it’s so easy to see

the fake, fraudulent, soulless fucks made from iniquity

no, You won’t, because You can’t pretend You don’t see

all of these people and the things they do too frequently

trying to convince us who know what they want Us to be

it kills them to watch people like us who keep going unaffected

they want, so bad, for any one of us, to become infected

with the ill-will that lives within all of them like the "Walking Dead"

so, for now, my beautiful and intelligent son, just rest your head

mom’s here to handle them so You can develop all your Gifts

You catch on quick, I've no doubt that you’ll be able to lift

the sacks of shit they throw at people like us as we deflect

all their ugliness and animosity making them nervous wrecks

You know, by now, that mom could keep on ranting rhymes

full of all the facts to help You more than the “New York Times”

but I know you've got all you’ll need to keep from going blind

so, for now, I’ll sign off and let You develop within your own time

©December 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas

Come Dig In

have you ever had one of those days

where it just doesn’t pay

to get out of bed

it’s just better for you to stay

and play like you’re dead

well, I have going on eight years now

but I still have nothing to fear about

because eight is my birth number

so I can sit back today and slumber

that number is good luck for me

it’s the number of times I’ve died you see

I’m still here though so it just may be

that the number eight identifies me

don’t shake your head, you don’t even know me

who are you to tell me, or anyone, how to be

it’s not your place to stage the game or boundaries

I color way outside of the lines, you can’t tame me

oh, yeah, you can try

but don’t you dare come cry

to me when I break the box you built

to use to confine and trap me, still

I have so much love inside some will spill

out and run up over the cup of your will

stop hating and just accept you can’t change me

it would be so much easier on you if you would see

I’m like a tiger, I need more room than you to breathe

if you try to capture my Spirit it will definitely be

the last thing you try to do on this earth, you see

I’ve been giving birth to a whole new era that might be

better or worse than any of us ever dreamed

I guess we’ll just have to sit and wait a while to see

which way the coin lands – heads or tails

so build a cross for me and sharpen your nails

I have succeeded at defying the law of gravity

are you beginning to comprehend my psyche?

it don’t matter at all because you can’t offend me

I’ve been spitting venom for years, most can’t see

all I’ve written to date, mostly filled with hate

because when I’m pissed I’m fucking great

don’t ask me why cuz I can’t explain it in words

just swing by sometime and I’ll give you the bird

then you’ll see all that has become more absurd

than trying to pass a bowling ball sized turd

it just tears a new asshole and there’s enough of them

I’ve been killing assholes to fry up so come dig in

stick with me and you’ll never be hungry again

I didn’t make the rules, remember, I just break them

©December 9, 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas